The Fire in Your Eyes
by Twilit Phoenix
Summary: Captured from her home with her tribe and then separated from her family in a tragic turn of events, Katara finds herself growing up in the Fire Nation. But the Fire Nation is no place for a young female bender. She must keep her ability a secret if she doesn't want to end up fighting for the nation's amusement in the Arena, but as time goes on it becomes more difficult. Lemon
1. Life Starts Now

**Chapter 1 – Life Starts Now**

"The sky was filled with black ash that day. Everyone panicked at first, but a sense of calm fell over them as my father walked to the gates to greet the invaders, knowing perfectly well what might happen."

Katara clung to Kya as the rest of the villagers stood in a half moon around the front gate. Behind them the town waited, glistening with ice from the most recent storm. Flakes of black snow spotted the ground.

In the distance, the small fleet of floating metal fortresses approached. The southern raiders had visited them before, but not within the last six years. Katara had been too young to remember. Even her older brother Sokka could only recall the sounds of the attack. Kaya had hidden the two of them away in the back of their igloo with herself as the fire nation soldiers took away two young men: two of their warriors. This visit came as a complete surprise to the village. The ice had hardly begun to melt from the long winter. Most trading ships would not arrive for at least several more weeks when the journey was free from calving icebergs.

The two children stood with the rest of the village to face the invaders. They were not the youngest to stand with their mothers watching the ships dock against the ice wall they used for protection from the wind. What else did they need to defend themselves from in the south pole? Rogue polarbear dogs and the packs of wolves that could be found on the tundra tended to stay away from the village. Their tribe had dwindled to just over 40 members, none of whom could bend. Their benders were all taken long ago, back when Kanna was just a girl. If it was obvious the whole village was hiding in their igloos, it would only incite the firebenders' rage, burning the homes down in an attempt to smoke them out. The elders told stories of those occasions. The southern raiders only came to instill fear in them, the destruction of the village was not necessary if they could avoid it.

The ships landed against the icepack and dropped their gangplanks. Soon, a small army of fire nation soldiers filled their village. Hakoda stood tall between his people and the enemy. The admiral of the fleet approached him. His red helmet shone bright against the purity of the white snow. Katara stepped behind her mother's legs, squeezing her hand tighter. Sokka subconsciously stepped back, but he refused to cling to Kaya as his sister did. He would stand tall and fearless like his father even though his heartbeat quickened at the sight of the imposing soldiers.

"What do we owe this visit?" Hakoda questioned. His words filled the cold air around them, echoing off the snow walls of the igloos. The admiral waved his lines of troops past him and into the village.

"We have no more benders as you know. We aren't a threat to the Fire Nation, we've never been." Hakoda called, his voice still strong, but it held hints of understanding of what was to come today from this visit. The tension was different in the air. The warriors of the town leveled their weapons as the fire benders got into stance. Children called out in fear, sobbing into their mother's parkas. The admiral lifted his head to look down at them all, a sneer growing on his face.

"The entire Southern Water Tribe will be taken prisoner for the violation of Fire Lord Azulan's fishing regulations." The fire benders closed in, shooting fire into the air to scare the civilians into quick submission. Kya dropped into a crouch, scooping Katara and Sokka into her arms and covering them from any errant flames. The warriors called out their fierce battle cries and rushed the enemy. The rest of the tribe scattered, trying to escape, but the fight gained them little ground. It was a matter of minutes before the Water Tribe warriors were taken down and the tribesmen rounded back up. The soldiers secured the warriors' hands behind their backs and marched the entire village onboard the deck of the main ship.

The village was not able to put up as much of a fight as they would been have decades ago. Every time the Southern Raiders showed up, more benders were taken; it was always only a small handful of villagers that were stolen away, and they always would put up a fight over the accusations. The benders would be taken on false claims of over-hunting turtleseals, baiting Fire Nation patrol ships, or fighting with soldiers at nearby ports. How the fire nation knew what happened in their icy neck of the woods was beyond Hakoda, but he did know that this event was a setup.

The Firelord had sent them decrees in the past. There had been a 'peaceful takeover' several decades ago when the Water Tribe was taken into the Fire Nation as a new territory after even more decades of raids and fighting in order to provide cold-water shellfish and oil for their lamps. The Fire Nation history books may have called it a 'bloodless battle', but the tribe lost many of their benders and warriors over the course of that week. Eventually, the Southern Raiders won, taking with them every last waterbender the town had and promising to be back should they fight their new masters. The perks of being part of the _superior_ Fire Nation never materialized though. They were still on their own at the edge of the world. The only thing that changed was news of the war and other propaganda that their normal trading ships brought to them once or twice a year. The pamphlets made good fire starters.

Half the Southern Raiders lined their village up on deck as the rest of the soldiers searched the buildings, rounding up strugglers and setting fire to whatever they could. Hakoda, bleeding from the from a cut on his left temple after the short fight, moved to stand with Kya and the children. Kanna waited nearby. All three adults had their hands bound; neither child did, though they stood close to their parents, fearful they would be separated..

When the fire benders returned to the ship, the bow was lifted back into place. The ship moved under their feet, sending several tribesmen to their knees as they lost their balance. Katara turned and looked over the edge of the boat. She was barely tall enough to see over the side, but from what she could see the village lay in shreds, burning in multiple locations where wooden beams were exposed. Igloos lay broken, clothing and hides were ripped from inside them and thrown about.

"Momma, why did they-?"

"Shh," Kya replied, crouching beside the two children as best she could with her hands bound. "Everything will be ok, as long as we stay together. The Fire Nation doesn't want us to try and escape and go home, but as long as we stay together, you will always be safe." Katara nodded, tears glistening in her blue eyes. She did not understand the implications of the words, but her mother's soothing tone and the promise of staying together was just as meaningful. The admiral of the Southern Raiders called out to the soldiers and gathered tribesmen closer together on deck.

"Southern Water tribe!" He announced. "You have violated your promise to our great Fire Lord by breaking the 3rd law in the fishing regulations contract." This statement enlisted much shouting by the men of the tribe. Claims that they never signed such a treaty and that they did not violate it even if they did filled the air. The Admiral called for silence. When he did not get it, he punched his closed fist into the sky, filling it with angry fire. The tribe quieted, though the air was still filled with resentment.

"Because of this violation, you are now prisoners of the Fire Nation. You lose all your rights and privileges of honored citizens-"

"The Fire Nation had never seen us as _honored citizens_," shouted one of the younger warriors.

"You insolent boy," a nearby soldier growled as he stepped forward to stand before the man. He lifted the young man off his feet by the collar of his fur jacket. The soldier was met with sharp glare.

"Lieutenant." The Admiral stated. "There are better ways to show this boy to respect his superiors. Take him to solitary. Take the rest of them go to the holding cells!" The fire benders moved like a well-oiled machine, stepping forward as one, grabbing all the tribesmen's left shoulders and shoving them forward. They were escorted down the steps that lead under the deck. Katara and Sokka clung to Kya and Hakoda as they were manhandled down the stairs. Voices called out as people fell, tripping on the too-small steps. Small children struggled to follow their parents without being separated. The cells in the brig were small; there were only five of them. It appeared they were meant to hold maybe twenty men at once; they had twice that. This ship was obvious not built to capture and confine an entire village.

Kanna, Kya, Hakoda, and the two children were pushed into a cell with a young couple. Others were not so lucky to end up together. A mother with an infant was separated from her husband, and two young girls just older than Katara ended up with their grandfather instead of their parents. There was much crying and shouting when all the cells were locked. The door to the hold was shut as the fire benders left. A single shadow stood watch outside the door. As the group quieted down, Hakoda patted a tearful Katara on the head while she clung to her mother and moved to the bars of his cell. Sokka seemed to have given up being brave and held on to Kya as well. The hold fell completely silent.

"My brothers, the Fire Nation has done us a great wrong today. I know that the journey will take us months for us to sail to the Fire Nation on this ship, in that time we will be far away from our home. I ask you not to fear but to be strong. If we stand together as proud water tribesmen not even the Fire Nation will break us." He did not need to shout to have his words heard. Everyone in the room watched him with complete trust.

"What's your plan Hakoda?" asked a warrior from the cell across the room. He sat with an elderly man, helping him get comfortable against the metal side of the ship.

"The plan is-" The door swung open and the ship's admiral walked in. The soldier that stood guard at the door closed it behind him so he could speak without being interrupted by his other soldiers.

"There is no plan," he interrupted. "This ship is headed for the Fire Nation capital. There, you will all be sent to the arena where you will fight other prisoners to the death for the amusement of the loyal citizens of the fire nation. There is no escape. Your village has been destroyed; as prisoners of this mighty nation no one will assist you in any escape attempts you make. So, I suggest you put all these ideas of escape aside. Because if anyone tries, the punishment will be severe." Hakoda and the Admiral glared at each other for a moment before he turned and left the prison hold. The door slammed, locking behind him.

"No matter what anyone tells us," Hakoda spoke, watching the door. "We must stay strong. As long as we keep our will to live and fight on, we have not lost this war." The villagers looked to each other, understanding on their faces. They seemed to realize that they would never see their homeland again, but their chief's words still kept them from losing all hope. Katara curled up in Kya's lap, her tears pushed away by her mother's fingers as she patted her back with soothing strokes. Hakoda sat down next to this wife, watching over his tribe as they turned to each other for comfort. The ship sailed onward.

The tribe was mostly forgotten about for what felt like the next week. They had long since gotten free of their bindings, since no one was around to stop them. They were feed and given meager amounts of water, but that was extent of the interaction they had with anyone aside from themselves. It wasn't until the sun went down and the soldier who came to collect their empty bowls from their daily rations appeared that they knew something was different. Three fire benders, none of them in uniform, followed the usual soldier inside the holding room. The fire benders walked up and down the individual cells, examining each of the occupants.

Kya held Katara tighter on her lap, the child practically lived there now, and she reached to Hakoda. She intertwined their fingers and gave them a squeeze. Hakoda shifted to sit closer to her against the outside wall of the ship. Sokka slept soundly beside them. The child typically fell asleep after he ate the skimpy rations he was afforded. When the firebenders came to their cell, they paused.

"That one," he pointed. The other young woman in the cell went still, her blue eyes widening in fear. The door was unlocked and two benders entered the cell. She shrunk back into her husband's arms but was forced to her feet. Hakoda tensed beside Kya. The soldier called up a flame to his hand when the young woman's husband rose to defend her. His pained shout woke both Katara and Sokka from their dreams, as well as anyone else in the hold who was not already paying attention to the scene. Hakoda jumped to his feet seconds too late to help. The woman was pulled from the cell and the door was bolted shut, the lock clicking soundly. Her husband grabbed the bars, calling her name as she was taken from his reach. A similar scene unfolded in another cell, only the woman was pulled from her mother's arms. The tribe gathered at the bars, calling out, pleading with the fire benders not to take them. Both woman were pushed up the stairs, the door slammed shut, leaving only the heartbroken sounds of the tribe's tears and attempts at comfort.

"Momma," Katara asked, rubbing her eyes. The child was still fighting off hints of remaining sleep. "What happened? Where did the fire benders take them?"

"Shh," Kya comforted. "They'll be back soon. No one will take you away from me. Just go back to sleep now." Kya felt her own heart pound and tried to take deep breaths and stay calm. Katara looked up, her eyes fearful for reasons she did not know. She twisted her gloveless fingers into the fur trim on her mother's coat and snuggled deeper.

The two women were returned in the morning, bruised, tearful and slightly burned. It was no secret why they had been taken.

Every second or third night, the fire benders would return and take two more women. They worked through all the women without children in their arms who weren't elderly, but by the second week, they ran out of new options. Eventually, they took Kya. Hakoda put up a good fight to keep her safe, even giving the younger man a good hit to the chin. Katara called for her mother from Kanna's arms, wiggling to get to her side as children do. But as all the others, she was taken upstairs as well. Katara cried that night, curled up with Sokka. The two of them sandwiched between Hakoda and Kanna. As much as Katara loved her father and grandmother, she craved her mother's touch to help her through this fearful situation. There was little her other guardians could do.

When Kya returned, the reunion was tearful. Kya sank to her knees when Katara ran to her across the cell. Any separation for the young child was terrifying. Her heart beat like a small bird, fast and fluttering. Sokka approached next, slowly, silently asking for his mother's touch. Kaya extended her hand, bringing him in. He sniffled, wiping his eyes quickly. His eyes were red and puffy from the tears he refused to let anyone see.

"It's ok to cry Sokka," she smiled, but it did not reach her eyes; her voice was sad. She refused to look at Hakoda or Kanna, even when they came closer. Hakoda placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Kya," he whispered, his voice cracking. His wife still did not look up at him. Instead she buried her head between her children's shoulders and tried to comfort them as best as she could. It broke his heart to see her put in this situation.

The journey to the Fire Nation was long and filled with heartbreak. They lost of member of the tribe, an old man, to illness within three weeks. The stuffy conditions of the cells and holding rooms did not help anyone. Soon, several tribesmen were sick. The admiral feared the loss of his entire cargo and ordered the whole group brought up onto the deck and the hold aired out. The tribesmen's hands were rebound as they were led upstairs on the main deck. The soldiers who were luckily enough not to have to clean out the hold were tasked with watching them.

The ship was only a third of the way back to the capital, but already the sun was warmer. For a moment many of the water tribe was able to forget the dire situation they were in and bask in the sun. Escape was futile in the middle of the ocean, so the afternoon was spent reuniting family members who had been sent to separate cells.

As the night fell, the hold was deemed good enough for the prisoners to the returned to it. They were marched back down. The room smelled of salt and was humid; it was obvious the crew had used saltwater right from the ocean to wash the room down. They were pleased to discover the porthole style windows were opened. The tribe had originally thought them to be welded shut. Now, a pleasant crosswind brought the smell of the sea straight into the room. It was a slight memory of home, though the nip in the air had long since vanished.

Their happiness ended the next night when the soldiers returned to continue their taking of women. This time there were four men and they took four women with them instead of the usual two. The shouts followed the woman up the stairs until the door was shut behind them. And the cycle continued for the next two months. Every other night women would be pulled from their cells to spend the night in the soldiers' beds. Every third week, the admiral would order the hold to be cleaned. The tribe lost seven of their members in the three months they were held prisoner at sea, mostly elderly, but also a single young child. His mother took his loss hard. The rest of the tribe was helpless to help her.

The ship stopped for supplies twice at two colonized Earth Kingdom towns. At one stop, they took on more prisoners. The soldiers were forced to move around the number in each cell to make room for the newcomers. Nearly a dozen Earth Kingdom men were brought on board. It was obvious that some were earthbenders, though it did little good in a metal prison cell. Their rations grew thinner.

Then, two weeks out from the capital Hakoda noticed a change in Kya. Between the first time she had been pulled from his arms to warm another man's bed and now, he had told her multiple times that he still loved her and that nothing that happened to her would change anything. He thought she finally believed him and would come readily into his arms when the children fell asleep. But he woke to her crying, hugging herself as she wept silently.

"Kya," he offered. "Its ok. Come here." He extended his arms.

"No," she sniffled. "This is different, I'm- I'm-" Hakoda assumed she was still referring to the last night she had spent in the soldiers' quarters.

"Nothing has changed Kya," he repeated, meeting her tear stained eyes as he cupped her face in one of his hands. "I love you. Nothing will change that."

"Hakoda," she whispered, looking away. "I'm ruined, everything has changed now. I've disho-"

"No," Hakoda said, interrupting her, "you've dishonored no one, not your tribe, not your family, not me. No matter what they did to you Kya, I will love you forever. It's these men who have no honor Kya, not you."

"You don't understand Hakoda," Kya shook her head, "I'm- I'm pregnant. It must have been one of the first times, they were careless and I couldn't-" she fell into tears as she watched Hakoda's face fill with shock and then anger. He pulled her into his arms and squeezed her tight.

"I can't dishonor you this way Hakoda," Kya mumbled into his shirt.

"We'll find a solution Kaya," he answered. "I'll make sure of it. Kya shook her head, pressed against her husband's chest as he stoked her brown hair.

In the two weeks it took for them to reach the Fire Nation capital, Kya all but faded to nothing. It pained Hakoda that he could do nothing for her. At least she had not pulled away from Katara and Sokka. She still sang them to sleep when they were scared and held them close, but when they slept, she was lifeless.

It would have been understandable back in the Southern Water tribe for her to feel dishonorable and embarrassed. It was a crime in their nation to partake in such activities without being married or even engaged, and it was as much the woman's fault as the man's. The punishment mostly involved public humiliation, since family was the most important value to the tribe. It had been a long time since anyone had been accused of it. In their current situation as prisoners, and the fact that every woman of age had the same stigma over her head now, no one had said anything to anyone. it was not necessary. Hakoda simply hoped this was not what waited for them once they reached the capital. He feared he might lose Kya if that was the case.

When the call went up on deck that they were pulling into port that morning, Kya sat Katara down in front of her. She undid the necklace around her neck and fastened it around the child's neck. Hakoda watched in silence; he wasn't sure what to make of this. It wasn't his to tell her to keep it, but he had hardly ever seen his wife without her trademark necklace. It had been passed down to her from Katara's grandmother, and now Katara was receiving it. The child touched the necklace and Hakoda's heart grew heavy in realization that his chances of seeing his daughter happily married were now slim to none.

"Katara," Kya smiled. "I want you to always keep this safe. Your grandmother gave this to me when your father and I were married, and now I want you to wear it. It's important that you keep this close to you. As long as you do this, not matter how far we are from each other, we will always be together. Do you understand this Katara?" The child stared at her mother for a moment and nodded slowly, returning the hug Kya surrounded her in.

Shortly after, the ship slowed to a halt and was secured at the harbor. The deck grew noisy and the tribesmen got to their feet in anticipation. Kanna grabbed Katara's one hand even as she reached to hold her mother's. Hakoda kept Sokka within reach while watching Kya. Something was up. Did she think that they would be separated? He felt his own nervousness build as he put a hand around her waist and held her close.

Lead up onto the deck, the soldiers checked their bound hands and lined them up along the ship's side to examine them all.

The heat of the sun and the air was unbearable, even in the morning. The soldiers, even with their heavy wintertime arms, seemed unaffected. They appeared not to have a second set of armor. Hakoda wondered if they returned to the Fire Nation that often. Beads of sweat already ran down some of the warrior's foreheads as they stood for the inspection. While the situation may have looked hopeless, Hakoda stood with his back straight and head up. He said nothing, but he would not give the soldiers the satisfaction of seeing him broken. The admiral walked down the row.

"Welcome to the Fire Nation capital city. This will be your new home from now on. There is no point in trying to escape, there are guards throughout the city once we leave this boat who know exactly how to catch any one of you who tries to get away. Now, if everyone would turn to their left the carts will take you all to the arena. If anyone of you even thinks about bending, you will find yourself wishing for a quick death. And I'll tell you right now, you won't get it," the admiral explained, looking towards the earth benders. The row of prisoners turned to their left to move down the front of the ship, and Hakoda watched the unthinkable happen.

Kya gave him a tearful smile and leaned backwards over the side of the ship. Her fingers slipped from Katara's hand in slow motion. Hakoda moved to catch her but was too slow. He shouted her name as the ocean swallowed her whole.

The other prisoners all looked over the side in mad flurry of activity. The admiral ordered the soldiers to scramble and maintain the order they had just lost. Kanna was forced to scoop Katara up into her arms, bound as they were, to keep the child from following her mother to her death in the ocean. She fought to get free. The soldiers quickly moved the line of prisoners away from the edge, but not before the bubbles from Kaya's splash subsided and Hakoda knew he would never see her again. He was forced to watch Katara cry over Kanna's shoulder. The child's small hands reaching towards the last place she had seen her mother. He was forced to listen to her calls all while trying to keep a hold of Sokka, who was just as confused, maybe even more so since his view of the event had been blocked. They stepped on land, for the first time in three months, and Hakoda saw the admiral send troops to search the shore.

"If the woman is a bender she'll find a way to shore and escape," the man explained to the lowly soldiers. Hakoda hung his head. His wife was no bender; there was no way she was coming back. She was gone. Kya had escaped in her own way, escaped the uncertainty of the fate that lay ahead of them. The look Katara gave him, with her big blue eyes red with tears and confusion made him wish Kya could have held on a little longer. He would not blame her, never. She had not choosen what had happened to her, but she had choosen how she handled it. He swallowed his own tears, it was easy enough since he was still in shock over the event. They were loaded onto the komodo-rhino drawn carts and Hakoda pulled both children close. Kanna watched in silence, simply staring at the ocean. Her eyes swam with tears as well.

"Where's mom?" Sokka asked, worry in his voice.

"Why aren't they rescuing her Dad?" Katara asked. "She can swim, she'll come back right?" Hakoda did not need to explain to them that Kaya had taken her own life. Not yet. They were too young. They would not understand.

"She hit the water hard Katara," he stated, his voice cracking. "The ship was too high."

"But," Katara cried. Hakoda pulled her close and met Sokka's gaze as his own tears began to fall. The family slowly came to terms with the fact that Kya was not coming back.

The arena was in the center of the city. It stood as the tallest building in the capital, aside from the palace which glittered on the hillside. To the two sobbing children it seemed like the city was inside a giant mouth that gapped open, about to eat them all. They were unaware that the jagged cliffs and rocks that surrounded the city in a makeshift barrier were actually the sides of a long forgotten volcano.

The arena was a massive building. It appeared the outside was coated with red marble, over a metal structure. It sparkled with gold lining that chased intricate columns around the edges. From the outside, it was impossible to see in. The carts moved inside the building through large metal double doors. Once inside, the tribe was overwhelmed. 3 stories of mostly empty seating towered over them. The building was nowhere near full; very few people occupied the upper levels, most of the crowds and noise came from the ground level that they stood on. A crowd of Fire Nation citizens gathered around a makeshift platform. The moment they spotted the carts, the crowd rushed to them, voices shouting over each other, pointing and bickering. The soldiers settled them enough to get the prisoners off the carts.

"Keep hold of Katara," Hakoda shouted over the noise. Kanna scooped the girl into her arms once more. She hoped she would not need to hold her for long; her strength had not abandoned her yet. The moment their cart was unloaded, the soldiers immediately separated them. The men were sent to the left and the women to the right. Hakoda struggled to get back to Kanna and his daughter, but the soldiers kept a good grip on him and the others, forcing them their separate ways.

...

And that's the first chapter of my newest fanfiction. Sound interesting enough? I'm hoping to post a new chapter every week or so. Hopefully I'll be able to keep up with that pace. I'm hoping to name all the chapters after songs and their lyrics, since the title of the story is song lyric.

Feel free to say whatever you feel like i need to know in a review, whether it be that my grammar/spelling is atrocious, my characters aren't staying in character, you like the premise so far, or whatever. I'm trying to get better and everything helps : )

Thanks. Hope everyone enjoys the story!


	2. I want to see you be Brave

**Chapter 2 - I want to see you be Brave**

"And then he was gone like my mother before him. I wasn't sure if I'd ever see my father again."

* * *

Even as he fought to get back to the women, Hakoda knew it was a losing battle. He could feel Sokka's confusion as the child struggled to stay with him against the force of the others around them. Hakoda called out to Kanna, begging her to keep Katara safe once he felt Sokka's grip slip. He turned away from his daughter, safe for now in her grandmother's arms, and grabbed up his son before the boy could be parted from him as well.

Sokka seemed to realize his father knew as much as he did as to what was going on and refrained from asking questions. The boy was the shortest of the men and was unable to see anything other than the other tribesman. Hakoda felt the child's grip tighten on his wrist. He took a deep breath and sent a prayer to the moon and ocean spirits to watch over his daughter while he was unable. He was unphased even though he knew his tribesmen saw him close his eyes and tip his head to the sky. Under any normal circumstance, sending pleas to the spirits would have resulted in jokes calling his manhood into question. Only women asked the spirits for help openly, but this was an extenuating circumstance.

The soldiers herded them into a space cut out from the building under a balcony of what they assumed was seating above. The great building was entirely metal as they looked up the walls on the inside. It rose may stories above them. The stadium was massive and surely held the entirety of the capital city and then some if necessary. The reddish stone facade on the outside of the structure appeared to be just for show. The underground room was very similar to the holding cell in the ship and crisscrossed with supporting metal beams to keep the weight of the stadium above from crashing down on top of them.

The slight opening on the main level underneath the seating where they gathered for just a moment lead them through the doorway and down a single set of twenty stairs underground. The door at the stair's base was unlocked by the first guard and they were pushed along the rows of cells. The Water Tribe men noticed that the hallway separated the two sets of the cells. Each was the same, though one was on the inside of the Arena, and the other backed up to the wall that made up the outside of the building. The path appeared to run along the entire base of the arena, which made Hakoda question if there were prison cells that ran that entire length.

Prisoners, old and young, watched as the firebenders pushed the new men along the cell line and finally into almost-empty enclosures. The cells closer to the door had been full, while these farther away were not. Hakoda and Sokka found themselves placed with two other tribesmen, a nonbending Earth Nation man, and the three previous occupants of the cell as the door was slammed shut. The chieftain watched the rest of this village while they were separated into similar cells on the same side of the prison and locked in. He put his hands to the bars separating him from the pathway. They were sturdy metal vertical bars with intersecting horizontal ones every third foot. The spaces were too small to fit through, even for Sokka.

The earthbenders from the boat, he noticed, were placed in completely reinforced metal cells on the other side of the walkway, the arena side. They had the same iron bars separating them from the rest of the room, but the floor, ceiling and far wall were solid sheets of metal. Hakoda turned back to Sokka in an attempt to comfort him.

"No one in your group was a bender?" asked one of the men who had already been in the cell when they arrived.

"How did you know?" Hakoda, shaking his head in response to the question.

"The guards divide the prisoners into benders and nonbenders to make it easier for them when they pull you to fight," the man explained. "Your whole group went into these cells. It would seem your whole village was brought in."

"It was," one of the Hakoda's men stated briefly. "Our whole tribe is here." The men in the cell lowered their heads to acknowledge the statement for a moment.

"Where were you from?" asked one of the men after a moment. He looked to be Earth Nation, though the grey tunic he wore was no help in distinguishing nationalities.

"The Southern Water Tribe," Hakoda stated. "The Southern Raiders burned everything they could to the ground."

"So the last stronghold in the south is gone," one of the men sighed. With Hakoda's confused look he elaborated. "The rest of the islands in the south have been raided as well. I was from Whale Tail Island. I think Kioshi may be the last free island south of the Fire Nation, but they aren't known for their benders of any discipline."

"Why was your village taken?" asked one of Hakoda's men. The man looked down at his tattered grey outfit and smiled to himself. The pants came to his ankles, showing off his bare feet. The patch at his knee was threadbare.

"We ambushed a trading ship," he explained. "Our island needs imports to surivive and the ship was supposed to come to us earlier. We were a trading island. We can't support a town without fresh imports from any nation. That was the 3rd time they had skipped our island and we were running out of supplies. So we took a risk and went for it. We only had two benders on the whole island, but even so, it made it easier. Of course, word got back to the Fire Nation and they invaded. Everyone was taken prisoner when we lost the fight a year ago. We weren't warriors; we were fishermen, traders, and whalers. There are only three of us left now." The group fell into silence, listening as the other cells continued with their own conversations. The humidity of the dirt and foundation stones seemed to dampen the noise level some. Hakoda was certain that the metal of the cells would do little to keep the volume down on their own.

"What are we here for?" Hakoda finally asked. Sokka watched his father ask the question and then looked around the cell to see who would answer.

"Do you know what the Fire Nation does with its prisoners?" asked the single man with a long ragged tunic. Hakoda, his two tribesmen, and the Earth Kingdom man gave looks of non-commitment.

"My village was under the impression that prisoners were used for sport," the Earth Kingdom man explained.

"And we always heard the penalty for going against them was death," one of the tribesman stated. Hakoda noticed that Sokka seemed to be paying attention now. The boy had been examining the cellblock while they talked about where everyone came from, but this directly applied to him. He worried about the young boy. He worried about all the children.

The tribe had had seven children under thirteen when they left the South Pole. One had died already. Hakoda saw two of the other boys in a nearby cell with their own relatives; they were just older than Sokka. He was especially thoughtful of the girls. One was a toddler and the other was thirteen, but she looked older and was fairly pretty. He had no idea what their captors would do with them. Would they be separated from their mothers and guardians? The adults could handle themselves, but the children were still dependent.

"You're both right," the man explained. "Every seven days this building, called The Arena, hosts a tournament. The stands are filled with Fire Nation citizens who come to watch us fight to the death. It's not a pretty sight. And of course, us nonbenders have the highest mortality rate." Hakoda closed his eyes, feeling Sokka shiver beside him. The chieftain nodded, accepting the fate that had been given to them. His tribe was made up of warriors; they would fight for their right to stay alive.

"Also, some of us escape this fighting when nobles come down to search for laborers," another man said. "They'll buy up your contract from the Arena and take you back to work for them. It's hard work, but at least you won't die in this spectator sport."

"Though," the first man stated, adding a glimmer of hope. "If you win ten straight matches in The Arena then you'll win your freedom." That seemed to lighten the new men's faces some.

"Though I haven't heard of anyone doing it recently."

"Then someone is due to win soon," Hakoda stated. The conversation faded off as the new occupants turned to themselves and their own thoughts. Sokka kept close to Hakoda even when his father leaned against the back wall of their cell to rest; the child seemed to be taking the sudden change hard. He had been parted from his sister, lost his mother, and then told he would probably die in their captors' version of entertainment. The chieftain put his arm around the boy's shoulders and held him close. He would do what he could to keep his son safe.

...

The next day three nonbending cells, including their own, were brought into The Arena's center. A small group of firebenders stood guard at each closed entryway. A pile of wooden and rusted steel weapons lay in a cart off to one side. The newest men stood confused as to what they were supposed to be doing. The stands were empty, so they obviously were not out here to fight to the death. Only after everyone seemed to get their fill of the morning sunshine did anyone move towards the weapons. The men who had been here before the newest shipment of fighters had arrived walked over first. Hakoda straightened up after his stretch and watched two men grab wooden swords and run through basic stances with each other. He knew nothing about swords, so Hakoda could not offhand judge how good they were.

"What are we doing out here Dad?" asked Sokka. The boy sat at his feet with his legs stretched out in front of him, copying his father. He had left his parka with the others down in their cell, and the weather was warm even then. The newest prisoners were still dressed in their original clothing. They had not been given the nondescript grey tunics and pants yet that the others wore.

"I'm not sure Sokka," Hakoda answered slowly. By now, everyone had transitioned to doing something fighting related. Hakoda spent another minute watching them and turned back to his son.

"We're going to begin your training," came Hakoda's answer. He pulled Sokka up and explained they were going to run laps. Sokka's excitement faded quickly, but he followed after his father without a word. The two of them jogged the edge of the arena.

Hakoda realized that the Fire Nation must have decided that the fights would be better if the fighters had practice and were in shape rather than simply rotting away underground. The other men had all gone to the weapons pile and picked them up to practice. Not sure how the fights took place, he would focus on what he knew would always be useful, endurance. He was positive he could utilize any weapon if pressed, but endurance could make or break a fight. It was a simple concept that any hunter knew. An inexperienced fighter could still beat a more seasoned fighter if he could outlast him. After sitting on a boat for several months he knew they had a lot of catch-up to play.

The guards watched over them for three hours until they were called back into their cells. Back in the cool darkness, Sokka curled up and fell directly asleep. Hakoda took his time to stretch out his tired muscles after their workout. The two of them had jogged and did sprints as well as strength building exercises to wake up their forgotten muscles. Hakoda knew Sokka had not started his warrior training, and it would have been another two years until he would have back home, but he figured now would be as good a time as any to begin. Only towards the end of their free time did he lead Sokka over to the weapons pile. Together they went over each one, what they were good for, how to hold them, and weaknesses associated with each one. The day had been exhausting.

That evening, just before the majority of prisoners fell asleep, Hakoda sat up speaking with one of the men in his cell about the killing games they were about to partake in the next day. The thin opening in the cell walls near the ceiling on the cells that lined the arena proved it was nearly dark outside. There was no light in the cells other then the sunlight from those openings, but the older prisoners promised their eyes would gain better night vision the longer they were trapped down there. The openings were only four or five inches in height and barred just in case. Sand and grit from the arena was occasionally pushed into the cells, leaving the floor underneath with a steady growing pile.

A door opened and a light appeared down the hall from Hakoda's cell. He wondered who was checking on them at this hour. The guards weren't posted in the cellblock, the doors were reinforced iron. They rightly assumed that they were all trapped like rats down in the prison. The light moved across the dark interior. The guard closed the door and then paused, jingling keys. The sound of a cell door opening filled the cellblock. Hakoda noticed his cell mates tense and was about to ask until he heard the muffled voices of a guard and a woman.

"There are woman prisoners?" Hakoda asked, trying not to visibly cringe as he spoke over the sound of the struggle down the hall. He didn't remember seeing any on the walk in.

"Only when they can bend," the man explained. He hung his head. "They don't last long down here. They lose their will to live much quicker than the men." Hakoda heard the woman call out, the voices of the prisoners nearby shouting at the guard, and the slap of a hand on bare skin. He was immediately grateful that none of his village's women were benders; he used to wonder why no one from their village could bend. He had even prayed to the spirits, when no one was looking of course, to send him a gifted bender to assist them in hunts and basic tasks. Life had been difficult without benders in a land of ice and snow, but they had survived when the last of them were taken away. Now, he could see why the ocean and moon spirits had ignored his pleas. They saw what was to come and were protecting their children from further disgrace. Hakoda bowed his head. For whatever his daughter would live through as she grew up in the Fire Nation, at least she would not be subject to both the cruelty of Fire Nation soldiers and fighting for her life against other prisoners. Hakoda had never been more grateful that Katara was a nonbender like the rest of them.

The screams echoed for the next several minutes until they died off suddenly. Looking down at his son, Hakoda noticed the boy had slept through the event. He gave the child a sad smile and smoothed the loose pieces of hair back into place. He turned back to the other men, all whom were up now.

"Does that happen often?" he asked, his throat tight. The light had faded from the cells and hallway, signaling the guard's departure.

"Several times a week," the Earth Kingdom man explained, "and after any matches any of the women win as well." Hakoda frowned, his disgusted look hidden in the darkness.

"Don't the others in her cell-?"

"There isn't anyone else," came the answer. "All the women are put in their own cells just for that reason." Hakoda's opinion of the Fire Nation just kept falling each passing minute. He doubted tomorrow would be any better.

...

The Southern Water Tribe chieftain stood in the center of the arena with another man, one from the earth kingdom, at his side. They each held their weapon of choice. There were no boomerangs in the pile, so Hakoda had chosen an armored pike and the other man had picked up a sword. They faced off against a firebender who seemed to be on a power tip. The enemy was just younger then Hakoda and went after the Earth Kingdom man first. It was obvious that his partner had no skills with the weapon he held but dove in anyway.

Hakoda circled, hanging back, the loosely shot fire blasts and wild sword swings made getting any closer dangerous. He watched the firebender's movements when he attacked. It had only been a short fight but both of the fighters were slowing down already. Hakoda charged into the battle, avoiding at the last second a well-aimed blast. His opponent had knocked the Earth Kingdom man to his back and went in for the kill. Rushing to attack, Hakoda upset the firebender's balance with a thrust of his pike to the man's side. Since the firebender wore a thin armor, the pike's hit was not fatal, but the warrior flinched. Hakoda pushed the pike deeper, struggling to get the dull blade through the thin metal protecting the man.

The bender grunted and then twisted with all his strength, showering them with red sparks and hungry flames. He felt the skin on his arms start to burn; the metal in his hands became too hot to hold. he could smell burning hair in the air. Hakoda stumbled backward, hiding his pain. He didn't hear the cheering crowd in the stands, the call for the firebender to kill them both. All he heard was the sound of his heartbeat in his ears. The firebender ripped the pike from his side, threw it to the ground, and attacked Hakoda as he knelt on the ground catching his breath.

The fireblast hit him square in the chest before he could attempt to avoid it. The fire singed through his grey tunic that he had been given to wear with the matching grey pants. The dark blue belt was the only distinguishing feature from the other man in the arena. His belt was green. Hakoda assumed they were given the colors of their nations to tell them apart.

The firebender looked down on him as he lay on his back. His vision swam. He was sure he had landed hard against the back of his head, but the memory was already foggy. The starting of flames formed at the man's clenched fist, aimed directly from him. He watched in slow motion, expecting his own death, as his vision cleared for second and the fire bender spun to face a surprise attack from the side. Both men flew out of his vision and Hakoda blinked, trying to refocus his eyes after the attack. He heard the swing of the sword colliding with the dull thunk on the armor the firebender wore. Another, this time followed by a scream amid and the roar of flames. The crowd drowned out the rest of the sound and Hakoda struggled to sit up.

As he did, he noticed the other man lay badly burned in a heap. He hoped the man was dead and no longer suffering. The firebender was gone. Hakoda missed him storming out of the arena calling for the arena's doctor to look at his injured leg where the sword had found his skin only slightly.

Two guards appeared and escorted Hakoda from the arena, mostly through pushing and prodding after they gave him a cursory once over. Back in his cell, Hakoda put a hand to his head and felt all the pain rush back.

"Dad!" cried Sokka as the door was shut and locked. The boy rushed to give his father a hug, and only once he saw his farther was in pain did he release him and hoover nearby.

"What happened Hakoda?" asked one of his tribesmen, moving closer to see if he could help.

"Who did they put you up against?" asked another men. Hakoda closed his eyes for a moment and winced. His chest felt like it was on fire.

"It was an Earth Kingdom man and me against a firebender," Hakoda answered. "He killed the other man and left me."

"So he won the match then," stated another voice. "Most wouldn't leave any enemies alive. You got lucky, even if you didn't win." Hakoda could only nod. Even that brought pain to his face.

"I'm scared to go out there Dad," Sokka stated. Before, Hakoda would have given his son strong words, now he had none. There was no room in his pounding head for anything but pain.

"Don't worry kid," replied one of the older men in the next cell who sat watching the commotion. "You won't face any firebnders until you turn twelve. Little kids only wrestle with each other or fight together against troops of hog monkeys before the fights actually begin in the morning; no one dies in those contests." His eyes still closed, Hakoda missed the relieved look on Sokka's face. He felt the child physically relax beside him and let out a breath. His son was safe for several more years. That would be enough time to get some real training into him before he would actually need it. Hakoda did not think about what would happen if his last match came before then; he would not let it. His son needed him to live through each fight. If that meant winning each one or just being too injured to pose any real threat to the enemy then so be it. He would be brave for his son.

"Hakoda," one of the men said. The chief felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes in response. He didn't remember sitting down against the back wall.

"This man says he can help you if you come closer to the bars," the man stated.

"How?" asked Hakoda, even as he moved to sit up. His vision swam and spun, so he shut his eyes once more.

"He says he's a healer," the man explained. Sokka helped the other man walk his father to the bars where an old man stood in his own cell across the pathway. Hakoda opened his eyes and gripped the iron bars to keep his balance. His knuckles quickly turned white with the effort.

"Where are you injured?" asked the old man. Hakoda guessed he was around his late fifties, quite an achievement here. His silver hair was kept long and in what seemed like five thick dreadlocks. Before Hakoda could speak, the man fell into a bending stance and pulled a string of water from his clothing. The men watching had not noticed before that the bender was in soaking wet clothing. The men fell into a lose stance and water from his clothing was sent to Hakoda's temples and the back of his head. The newest prisoners were completely awestruck at the demonstration.

The water against his head felt cool, and the light it emitted did not bother his eyes as much as he thought it would. Instead, his vision returned to normal slowly and the pain receded from the back of his head. The old man, using the small leftover amount of water directed it to the burn on his chest. the chief had not even noticed it. The water felt better than anything he had ever experience before, but it was soon used up and the tingly sensation was gone.

"How are you now?" the old man asked. His sight normal once more, Hakoda gave the man a weak smile.

"Much better," he stated. "What did you do?"

"Some waterbenders are healers," the man explained as he looked to the other men in his cell. "Not all of them, but sometimes when our spirits are strong or The Spirits deem it necessary, we discover we can help others with our powers. My ability would not have been prized back home in the Northern Water Tribe, but I'm glad to put it to use here."

"Thank you then," Hakoda bowed his head. The man smiled and turned to sit back down against the wall of his cell. It was directly across the walkway from their own.

"Why are you all wet?" asked Sokka finally, staring at the man.

"I purposely fell into the water trough after my match today," the man explained. "The guards won't give us benders more water then we need to drink since they fear we'll escape. So I bring my own water. I've been doing it for years. The guards don't think anything of it." Hakoda realized that the water the man brought down could have been used long ego to escape, just as he said, but instead, he used it to help the injured. The old man coughed, his entire body shaking. The wet clothing clung to his thin frame. Only then the man's sacrifice truly hit him. Being soaked in this damp and chilly environment would be the death of this old man. Hakoda hung his head for a moment in thought, and then lifted it to send another prayer to Tui and La. He would take this old man's example to heart. He was living here without attempting to escape, simply to help the others, his own people or not.

Kya had been right, Hakoda thought as tears filled his eyes; the Fire Nation may have taken everything from them, taken their homes, their families, and their freedom, but they could never take away their will to live. That was theirs and theirs alone to give.

* * *

And there's chapter 2. I know it isn't about Katara, but I couldn't share even half of this information about The Arena from her point of view, so we see it from her father's. Worry not, we shall return to little Katara next.

Still interesting? I hope so.

*The chapter title comes from the Sara Bareilles song Brave*


	3. There's No Turning Back

**Chapter 3 - There's no Turning Back**

"I wished I could be like them. Now I wish I had never wished it true. "

* * *

"Daddy!" Katara screamed, reaching for him as he was pulled away with Sokka. They were taken out of sight and into the actual building of The Arena. There were a few of the younger men who had been purposely left outside with them. The women watched them all as they were led onto the makeshift stage. The large crowd of Fire Nation people went mad, calling and shouting, pointing with bags of coins jangling nosily in their hands.

As the women watched, they did not notice the other small crowd of men slowly circling them. It wasn't until the remaining people at the stage fought to outbid each other over the few remaining earthbenders who were left that it became obvious they were next. Kanna pressed Katara closer to her chest as the women subconsciously stepped backwards into each other, forming a tight circle of protection, not quite unlike a herd of caribou being attacked by wolves back at home. A man in maroon robes stitched with blood red trim stepped forward and motioned for the firebenders who kept the prisoners from escaping to listen to him.

"Except for the four elders and those three," he pointed towards the women in the front who were maybe in their mid 40's or 50's, "I'll take them all." The firebenders moved in and separated the group into the two sections. There was much struggling and raised voices. It was obvious, even if their hands had not been bound, that they would not have won the small fight to stay together. One of the guards attempted to pull Katara from Kanna's arms, but the old woman turned and protected her as best she could. Katara clung tighter, nearly choking Kanna in the process; she screamed bloody murder and cried, tears streaming down her face.

"GranGran!" Katara cried as the firebendere tried to wedge his hand between the two to pry the girl child off. The scene escaladed, and soon they had gathered the attention of some of the others gathered. The buyer noticed the witnesses and called to the solider still working Katara from her grandmother's arms.

"Stop!" he called, waving him off the pair dismissively. "I don't need that one. She's too young anyway." The soldiers released Katara, and Kanna sunk to the ground in relief that her granddaughter would not be parted from her just yet. The old woman stroked Katara's hair, trying to settle her as well as calm her own racing heart. The child's sobs subsided, but not before they were led as a group in the same stage as the others before them.

Kanna watched the women who had been chosen as they had their bound hands tied to one another on the long rope and were led out of the arena after a large sum of gold had traded hands. The view from the raised dias gave her the ability to watch as the younger women were all pulled out through the doors they had entered through and out into the city. Directly below the sparse line of women stood the remainder of Fire Nation citizens watching them. some counted the coins in their purses while others eyed each of the women in turn.

Red rimmed and glistening, Katara finally lifted her eyes from where she had buried them in Kanna's jacket. All the women still wore them, even though they were sweating unbearably. Kanna and Katara stood near the edge of the platform. The single man who talked to the buyers stood nearest them, though he moved down their line and held out an open arm to gesture at them all. The few firebendering guards stood behind them, watching their every move. The man gestured to the group of them again.

"Any takers?" he asked the crowd. A few men called out bids for the youngest of the remaining women on the far left. She was dragged off the stage when the numbers ran out. The next call was surprising though.

"Those two," a man, maybe in his mid-30's shouted, pointing at Kanna and Katara. "How much for both?" A number was thrown out, but no one else fought the man's bid. Money was exchanged and a single piece of paper signed. Kanna was led off the stage to where the man waited. She eyed him as she shifted Katara's weight in her arms.

"Your granddaughter?" The man asked. Kanna nodded hesitantly; she was unsure of what to expect from this man. The fact that they had not been separated _almost_ outweighed the notion that they had both been bought like meat at a market. "How old is she?"

"Six," Kana spoke, still cautious.

"Perfect," the man nodded. He turned, motioned for Kanna to follow and began walking without even seeing if she bothered to listen. Kanna did.

"My daughter turns nine within the month," he explained. "This one will make an excellent playmate. But more important than that, I'm in need of a nanny. My son is still young and needs someone to look after him. I can't be there, and the maid is no good with babies."

"What about your wife?" Kanna asked slowly as the man guided them to a carriage pulled by two aging ostrich-horses. The driver held the door open for them, even offering Kanna a hand up the steps. When the door was shut and they were on their way the man answered.

"She's bedridden," came the reply. "She can't take care of herself, much less two children." There was a second of silence.

"Your names, if you please," the man asked.

"Kanna," the old woman replied, "and this is Katara." Katara sat placidly in her grandmother's lap now, intrigued by the passing scenery. Her eyes were still red from the tears, and her sleeve cuffs held evidence of where she had wiped her nose.

"The Water Tribe has interesting names," the man stated, more to himself then to Kanna and Katara. His gaze hardened then, "speaking of such, I will tell you this once. You two are now mine by law, if you do what I have instructed you to do we will not have any issues and your lives will be filled with comforts unimaginable to people of your station. But dare to cross me or try to escape and I promise to you, you have much more to lose then I do. Do I make myself clear?" Kanna looked down at Katara and stroked the girl's long brown hair. She absentmindedly noticed that it needed to be brushed and rebraided.

"And how shall we address you?" Kanna asked.

"Zu," the man stated, "my name is Oran Zu. You may called me Master or Master Zu."

"Yes, Master Zu," Kanna replied, "I understand." Her answer satisfied the man. Once they arrived at his modest home they were greeted by his daughter. She ran into his arms once inside and noticed Kanna and Katara. Kanna had set Katara down and held her hand now that her bonds were cut. The carriage driver had appeared the moment she stepped to the ground and cut them for her. He took the severed ropes and disappeared as quickly as he came.

"Papa, who-?" asked the girl.

"My dear," Oran Zu smiled. "This is your new nanny Kanna and a playmate to keep you company." The child smiled at the two of them and then turned back to her father to regale him with the goings on of her day.

Kanna and Katara were led to the nursery and shown into the small bedroom, much the size of a closet. This single room with its single bed was theirs, Mr. Zu explained. The door led into the nursery where the three-year-old toddler slept. Food would be brought to their room tonight by Mr. Zu's butler and they were told not to worry about their clothing for the time being. All would be provided for them in time.

They weren't the only two who served the Zu household. The house was large to them, so Kanna could see the master's justification for having many servants. There was a single chief and a butler, both who appeared to be Fire Nation men. The handful of other servants, the maids and the grounds keepers, all were from the Earth Kingdom. They were all in their forties at least and kept to themselves when Kanna and Katara were around. Luckily, watching the children was a fulltime job, so Kanna never felt inclined to get to know them.

Waking with the sun like the rest of the city was a struggle for Kanna. Members of the Water Tribe were accustomed to staying up in the night under the moon, thus rising late. For Katara, who typically was up anyway full of all her childhood energy, it wasn't that big of a deal. Though, as Kanna dressed the child the next morning with the clothing that she found just inside the door, she was met with a question.

"GranGran?" the girl asked. "I miss momma. I want to see her." The old women felt her heart break. Katara was apparently too young to understand the concept of death and the finality of it even after her father had explained it yesterday. She didn't fault the child after all that happened for not recalling the conversation. It felt like ages ago, even to her.

"She's gone Katara," the woman frowned and sighed, touching her granddaughter's forehead. "Your mother is watching over you with Tui and La." She tied the burgundy sash around Katara's waist in a loose knot.

"Why?" the girl asked with a frown. "I miss her. When is she coming back?"

"Katara, listen to me," Kanna said, holding the little one's shoulders. The room they shared was silent, slowly filling with sunlight as Kanna thought how to phrase her words. Blue innocent eyes stared up at her, waiting.

"Your mother is never coming back." Kanna said slowly, inwardly cringing the finality of the word _never_. "She can't, but she's watching over you, because she loves you very much." Kanna saw then that Katara wore the betrothal necklace she had passed down to Kya and smiled. She wiped the tears from the little girl's eyes and took her hand. The woman guided it to the pendant.

"As long as you wear this necklace," she smiled. "You will carry a piece of her with you for when you most need strength. You must never take this off." Katara tried to smile up at her grandmother, but her sadness was still strong.

"And Dad?" she asked. "And Sokka? Are they with Tui and La too?"

"No Katara," Kanna explained. She truthfully did not know where they had been taken, so she was unable to answer her granddaughter's question. "If you're lucky, you may get to see them someday." They shared a comforting hug and together walked into the nursery where the boy still slept. Ouran Zu's daughter met them in the room once the curtains were drawn.

"Papa says you're the new nanny," she stated when Kanna peered over the crib to check on the toddler. She had been told her duties would begin today and was given yesterday to settle into the room. "Have you ever been a nanny before? You look really old, so you must have been. Did you look after the Tunzon's kids? Or the two boys down the street? Or maybe even the royal-"

"Bai," Kanna interrupted the child's rambling, remembering her name from all the things the master had told her. "Why don't you get dressed so we can have breakfast?" The girl stood in the doorway in a pink silk nightgown with ruffles on the neckline and the hemline that came to her knees. Seeing that both her nanny and the other girl were dressed already, she gasped and disappeared into another room.

Kanna waved Katara after her. The child cautiously did as she was bid. Kanna changed the boy's diaper and dressed him in a loose tunic from the pile she assumed was clean next to his crib. The room would need to be cleaned and picked up; she nearly tripped over a pile of broken toys on the way out.

She found Bai eagerly explaining the merits of Fire Nation fashions to a starry eyed Katara in the girl's room minutes later. Toys littered the floor, clothing was hung halfway out of the drawers, and the bed was unmade.

Homes back in the southern Water Tribe were small, large spaces were not conducive for keeping warm. Thus, they did not have the room to be messy. Even Katara knew she had to pick up her toys when she was done playing with them to not be in someone else's way. Considering she only had a handful of toys, it wasn't too hard. Kanna added Bai's room to her mental to-do list.

Ouran Zu had not given her specific instructions aside from that both children needed to be well cared for. They needed to be feed, cleaned, and looked after at all times. She assumed cleaning the rooms came as part of the package. The old woman did not care about the work she had been given, as long as it kept Katara safe. She realized they had fallen into a better situation then she could have wished for here after everything that had already happened. She knew things could be far worse.

They all headed down to breakfast and Kanna was happy to see that Bai seemed to have taken well to Katara.

...

And thus Kanna and Katara vanished into the normal schedule of the Fire Nation. For the first few months they both struggled to adjust to their new lives. Katara cried often about missing Sokka, her father and her mother, but the older Fire Nation girl Bai kept her busy enough with play during the day. Kanna cared for the son and watched the girls when they would want to be outside. It was a thankless task, though she was able to learn much more about the land that they had been brought to that she had been previously unaware of.

...

The girls sat outside in the garden in the back of the house and played with Bai's dolls as Kanna watched nearby. The little boy was content to chase after dragonflies and butterflies in the garden on his own. It was spring, and the weather had yet to become too hot for Kanna to enjoy. Katara seemed to have adapted well to the drastic change in climate. She no longer had trouble falling asleep in the heat as her grandmother still did. Though, Kanna knew children never truly felt heat or cold until their preteen years, it was a good step.

Out at the far end of the enclosed yard, a trio of grounds keepers worked to repair the stone fence and build a pond. The idea of a pond seemed unusual in the Fire Nation at first, but Bai explained to Katara once construction began that it would be the new home of the three butterfly koi fish her father had been given as a get-well gift for her mother. She was also excited about the ruby salamanders her teacher had spoken about in class during their short wildlife lesson that might make an appearance in a pond environment.

The Earth Kingdom men argued loudly for a moment, then fell into harsh whispers. They were all waist deep in what was going to be the pond. Two of them held shovels and the third was gesturing wildly at the bottom of the hole. Bai and Katara looked up when one man flung his shovel down and it clanged loudly off what sounded like a large rock. The men stopped and stared at the girls until they turned away. Katara turned back to the dolls entirely, but Bai snuck glances back at the workers. Kanna turned to watch the little boy for a moment before noticing the eldest child's attempts to spy.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened and Kanna realized lunch would be ready shortly. Then she would need to get Bai ready for her lessons. She called the girls in and gathered up the blanket with the dolls. The little boy followed after his older sister and Katara, leaving only Kanna outside for a moment.

Then it happened. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the one Earth Kingdom man take a wide stance. The other two moved out of the hole. After a second of straining, the large rock was flung from the hole and landed on the discarded shovels, causing all the men to flinch with the clatter. Kanna turned away to usher the children inside and have lunch. It didn't occur to her that seeing an unpracticed earthbender move a rock was a big deal until she was met with three sets of eyes, two brown and blue blue, staring in awe.

"Bending," the boy cooed, reaching out with his fingers as if to take the magic from the air. Kanna scoped him up and moved for Bai who looked like she was going to bolt. Kanna originally mistook her expression for fear. The girl child had her eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a confused frown. Katara stood confused beside her.

"Inside Bai," Kanna began, filling the doorway with her form. "It's ok."

"I'm telling my father," she stated and rushed off. Kanna held her brother tighter once he squirmed to get free at the mention of his father. The men seemed to have noticed the commotion in the doorway; the bender's face was white with fear.

"Let's go inside Katara," Kanna said. She guided the child inside, wondering what the fate the man outside faced once Bai told her father what she had seen. When she learned the answer, she was horrified.

...

A full year passed, and as birthday gift to his son, Oran Zu took them all to The Arena to watch the fights. Kanna had fallen into her role of child sitter-now-teacher almost naturally. She had even impressed Mr. Zu when his son found him and greeted him the proper formal way of the Fire Nation. The old woman had picked up more then she knew she could.

Katara, still a quiet child, was beginning to open up. Spending time with the bubbly Bai seemed to keep a smile on her face. She learned almost as much as Kanna did watching the servants and guests to the house by simply talking and playing with Bai. Bai loved answering Katara's questions about simple things any Fire Nation child should know. If Kanna didn't know any better, she would have thought that the Fire Nation girl saw Katara as more than a servant and almost instead as a friend.

The day they went to The Arena was sunny but cool. The weather never shifted cooler then warm in the capital, but that day had a pleasant crosswind. They: Mr Zu, his son and daughter, Kanna and Katara, took their seats on the lowest platform. They were only a few rows from the ground where the warriors fought. Currently two men in gray tunics with green belts hurled boulders at the other, trying to pound the other to dust.

"Papa!" the boy shouted over the applause and cheers when one bender finally defeated the other. "When are the tiger-oxs coming out?"

"A few more earth bending matches," Mr. Zu smiled, "and then we'll get to see the tigeroxs." The boy grinned like a fool while Bai chatted at Katara. The young Water Tribe girl watched the next two rounds in silence. Finally there was an intermission after the earthbending was over. The stands grew more crowded as the sun rose.

After watching the events, Katara turned to Bai with questions. She had never been to The Arena before for anything like this, and Katara seemed not to associate the location with her dreadful first experience there a year and some previous.

"Why were they fighting Bai?" Katara questioned.

"For us to watch," Bai explained without skipping a beat. "I wish they did firebending matches, but all the good benders are off in the war. Papa says they used to when he was really little every now and then. So now all we have are earth and water benders. And they have to fight, Papa wasn't so happy when he heard that no one could have benders since they have to go to The Arena. I'm not sure why though. But he says he'd get in trouble if the city guard found him with a bender in his house. That's why we have to be on the lookout for anyone who can bend so they can be sent back here and we don't get in trouble. " Katara nodded and thought about the earthbender in the yard. Kanna had kept them inside the rest of the day and she had not seen him at the house since.

"Tiger-oxes! Tiger-oxes!" screamed Bai's brother happily. Two large creatures were released into the arena with three men with spears and other weapons. It didn't take long before one of the warriors stabbed the smaller ox with his spear. Bai cried out.

"He's hurting the tiger-ox!" she sobbed. Katara did not respond as she watched the wounded animal attack, pinning the man to the ground and mauling him. Bai felt no sympathy for the human.

"Why aren't they bending?" asked Katara.

"They aren't benders," Kanna answered. Her knuckles were white as she watched the remaining two men the small tiger ox, sending him scurrying back to his cage. Both men were dressed in grey pants without shirts. From high in the stands there was only one way to accurately tell them apart. They each wore a tattered sash tied as a belt in a different color. The two men still fighting each had on a different shade of green; the body forgotten on the ground had a blue one.

"What are the colors for?" Katara asked. The remaining tiger-ox charged and grabbed one of the man's arms in its jaws. His screams were drowned out by the crowd. Bai shrugged.

"Papa?" Bai asked, pulling on his sleeve. "Why do the men wear the colored belts?"

"To tell them apart," her father answered, eyes never leaving the fight.

"Why?" asked Bai. She cheered with others when the tiger-ox avoided being stabbed and knocked the remaining fighter to his back on the ground.

"For betting," her father explained again. "If you pick the correct color and that color is the last one standing you win."

"Oh," Bai nodded. She turned to Katara. "Who'd you pick?"

"No one," Katara answered honestly. "I didn't know I was supposed to pick one."

"Well, I picked the tiger-ox," Bai smiled. "So I win." Katara giggled halfheartedly with her as the animals were herded back into the cages by several brightly dressed firebenders. The bodies were dragged off in the direction opposite. Kanna quietly wiped away gathering tears and turned her attention back to the children as more matches began.

They took a break for lunch; Mr. Zu took his two children to the open café overlooking the arena on the top floor and left Kanna and Katara to save their seats. The open seating was sparse now, something big must be happening soon. Even without Mr. Zu around, Kanna made no move to take Katara and run. An old woman could never get far enough from the Fire Nation before someone caught them. She knew they were lucky and she would not risk Katara's future more than it already was unless she was sure it would work. Even though they were dressed in comparable outfits to the Zus on their outing, it would not be enough. Besides, she noticed that their master had spoken with the security patrols wandering the stands about leaving them there. There was nothing the old woman missed these days.

Firebenders down on the arena floor pulled into place large troughs of water. The announcers called out the next fight and two men entered. They each wore blue belts over their grey tunics, one light and the other dark blue.

"GranGran," Katara gasped in awe as the match began, "they're waterbenders!" While the two opponents were unevenly skilled, the fight was beautiful to watch. Katara was spellbound. The older man was obviously a master, while the younger bender made an impressive display of bending with multiple water whips but missed several openings. The master knocked the boy off his stance and delivered the finishing blow with clean efficiency. The crowd cheered as he left the arena as the victor.

"Did you see that GranGran? He was amazing!" Katara asked, turning away from the arena. The fact that one of the fighters lay dead, did not seem to register in her mind. "I wish I was a waterbender."

"No, you don't," Kanna stated with a stern face. "Not anymore. If you were a waterbender, you'd be taken away and made to fight to your death or worse. I'm glad you're not a bender Katara, not here. You're safer this way." Katara looked back to the arena where the dead man was dragged off. The child let a strange look cross her face and looked back up at her grandmother.

"What's worse than dying, GranGran?" Katara asked, her big blue eyes full of childhood innocence. Her question brought memories of Kya to the forefront of her mind.

"I'll tell you when you're older, Katara," Kanna sighed.

...

A handful of matches passed until Mr. Zu and his children returned. They sat back down and he handed Kanna a folded cloth napkin. Unwrapping it, she pulled out a small simple sandwich cut into two pieces. She passed Katara one and ate the other.

"Look!" Bai pointed. The announcer called out the next match, drowning out anything she said afterwards.

"It's time for the last two matches," he shouted, "and you should enjoy them today! First up we have 'Fists of Fire'. He chooses for his opponent, an earthbender!" A man dressed in shiny red robes with a yellow mask stepped into the arena. He raised his hands, clenched into fists, and firebended into the air. The crowd went wild. The earth bender appeared and the fight began.

"That's not his real name right?" Katara asked Bai as she licked her fingers from the sandwich, "Fists of Fire?" Bai giggled.

"No. Papa told me that the fighters in masks are noblemen. They don't show their faces or go by their real names to keep them a secret," Bai explained. Katara nodded. They watched the fight until the earthbender yielded. The firebender had only one good move, no doubt the reason for his name. He was close range fighter, jabbing and punching with flaming fists, leaving nasty burn marks. He was declared the winner and walked out of the arena, trading with next fighter. The earthbender was led back to the opening in the arena wall.

"Up next, and the last match of the day is 'The Blue Spirit'. He chooses as his opponent, two nonbenders!" There was a slight confusion in the crowd about the choice of opponents as a young man with a slight frame walked onto the arena wearing a blue demon mask. A sheath held a sword across his back. The nonbenders stumbled onto the field. Kanna gasped as she recognized a man from their village.

The fight began, the three men pulled out their weapons: the Blue Spirit held two swords and the warriors had fire nation pikes with steal reinforcements on the wooden poles. They danced around each other until one of the warriors charged. The Blue Spirit avoided the attack and put a clean set of shallow slices into the man's left thigh. The other man's pike was chopped in half by the dual swords and he ended up on the ground with a boot on his chest.

The second warrior threw his spear at the men under the blue spirit mask and charged behind it. The Blue Spirit hacked the pike away and sliced into the running warrior's chest before he could stop his momentum. The two slashes across his torso welled with blood and he stumbled backwards onto the ground as well. The noble held up a single one of his swords into the air and the crowd went wild.

"That was cool Papa!" Bai's brother shouted. "He beat two men without bending!" Katara was just as awestruck.

They went to the arena four more times in the next two years. Only once did the Blue Spirit fight while they were there. He won against an eart bender and nonbender. Bai loved watching him fight, and in turn Katara grew to idolize him as well.

...

As the children aged, Kanna became more and more of a tutor instead of simply a nanny. The boy had begun learning his letters, something Kanna could teach easily. It was more difficult with Bai. Her father had her schooling with a privet instructor on all manners of proper ladylike etiquette. To be able to help her, Kanna had to sit in the back of her lessons and remember what Bai was learning. Luckily, the little girl liked playing teacher and bossing Katara around in her own little-girl way. Together, they would practice the proper mannerisms and whatnot that a good society lady should possess with Kanna watching over them.

...

Everything seemed to be flowing smoothly until Katara turned eight. Shortly after her birthday, Katara locked herself in the bathing room halfway through a bath and refused to come out. Mr. Zu had taken Bai and her brother out that day and no one but Kanna had been home to notice. It took two hours for Kanna to finally get the child to unlock the door.

"Katara," she asked when the door was unlatched. "What's wrong? Are you ok?"

"You won't be happy," Katara shook her head. Looking around the room, Kanna noticed that almost every surface was soaked with soapy bathwater. She knew the child had wanted to take a bath, but she wasn't sure why she was crying and still fully dressed.

"What were you doing?" Kanna gasped.

"GranGran," Katara sobbed. Tears burning on her cheeks.

"Tell me Katara, what's wrong?"

"I'm- I'm a-" she whispered the word, "a waterbender." Kanna scooped Katara into her arms and hugged her as the soap dripped from the walls, ceiling, and decorations onto the floor. They stood like that for a long time, both tearful.

"I'm sorry GranGran."

"You have nothing to be sorry for Katara," she smiled. No child should be fearful of being a bender. It was a blessing in any other part of the world.

"But you said-"

"I know," GranGran nodded. "You must never tell anyone of your gift. I won't let anyone take you away from me Katara." Katara froze as she heard those same words her mother had promised years ago. Kanna seemed to realize what she had said and smiled.

"Your mother would be proud of you Katara," she promised. Katara smiled and released her grandmother from her hug, touching the blue necklace.

"Now, let's get this place cleaned up before they get back. Katara nodded and grabbed several towels. As they cleaned, Katara showed Kana what had happened and how the room became covered in bubbles. Her waterbending was weak, but it was the fact that she _could_ which worried Kanna. At least she had no fear that her granddaughter would tell anyone. Katara was too frightened to utter a word of her ability.

...

Over the next year, things fell back into place after the bath mishap. Mr. Zu even enjoyed the knowledge that his wife had taken a turn for the better. Her condition had improved markedly and she enjoyed taking short walks with her two children in the small yard that surrounded the house.

It was saddening and a sudden event when Kanna fell ill. It started with the basic symptoms of a cold, and then it evolved into something more. Two days after she displayed symptoms, Kanna was confined to bed when she could no longer walk without help. When she showed no signs of recovering on her own, Mr. Zu called in the family doctor. While the two children were steadily on their way to not needing a nanny, he liked having something to keep an eye on them and out of trouble while his wife grew stronger.

The doctor saw to Kanna for several hours straight when he arrived, trying to get her fever to break. He told the family that while what she was sick with was strong, if they showed no symptoms by now than they had not caught it and would be fine. The bad news came for the diagnosis though. Kanna had begun to cough up blood in the last hour and showed no signs of improvement. The doctor told Mr. Zu he assumed she'd be gone by morning. Katara heard the diagnosis through the partway open door and rushed back to the bedroom she shared with her. Tears streaming down her face, Katara stood at her grandmother's bedside.

Kana offered the child her hand, Katara took it between her own.

"GranGran," Katara sobbed. "The doctor-"

"Shh Katara. I know what he said. Listen carefully," the child nodded, leaning onto the bed to get closer. The doors to the kitchen swung open and through the open windows Katara heard a women's voice with Bai and her brother.

"You need to be careful Katara," Kanna choked. "This isn't the Southern Water Tribe, this place is dangerous, especially for you. I wish I knew where your father and brother were. You'd be safest with them."

"I'm safe here GranGran," Katara tried to say. "With Mr. Zu and Bai and-"

"I fear our time with them is numbered," she sighed. She knew that soon Bai would grow out of a need for younger playmate, and she worried what Oran would do with Katara then. For as nice as he was, he was still their master, and he could do what he wished with them without penalty.

"Why?" Katara asked. Her grandmother's breathing grew more labored and she closed her eyes.

"Please GranGran, I don't understand. Don't leave me alone. I need you!" she cried, throwing herself on top of her grandmother's chest.

"You're a big girl Katara, a waterbender," Kanna smiled. "Make your mother even more proud then she already is as she watches over you with the spirits." Kanna touched the necklace at Katara's throat. The child never took it off, even at night. Bai had asked about it, even made fun of Katara for wearing it with her red clothing she had been given when they arrived. Katara cared not that it didn't match her outfits, it was the only thing she had of her mother. After a while, even Bai seemed to respect that reasoning.

"We both love you very much Katara," Kanna smiled. Katara blinked away tears and tried to smile.

"I love you too," she whispered. She rested her head on the bed and cried. She fell asleep and only woke hours later after the sun went down. Someone had draped a blanket over her shoulders while she slept.

Katara pulled the blanket tighter and stood. She had no one now, and GranGran said it wasn't safe anymore, not even here. Though she herself did not know why, she would take her grandmother's word for it. The child stood stiff with indecision as she contemplated her options. There weren't many.

After a single kiss was left on GranGran's cool cheek, the room was empty. Katara changed into her everyday clothing and stole into the kitchen, the blanket tied around her neck like a cape. She grabbed the first thing she could and left out the backdoor. She ended up with half a loaf of spiced bread, not her favorite, but what did a 9-year-old know about running away. The darkness swallowed her.

* * *

And I've killed off another one of our little Water Tribe family. How was the chapter otherwise? You should all pretty much have a solid understanding of The Arena and how that works by now. And now we see why Katara's not so safe in the Fire Nation with her ability to bend. Kinda sad right?

I hoped you liked the chapter though! I'm interested to hear what you thought about it, where you think its going, and anything you want to add. I can already guess what some of you will be questioning, and all I can do is smile and say look forward to the next few chapters!

The chapter title comes from lyrics in Hillary Duff's song 'Metamorphosis.'


	4. I'll Keep You Alive

**Chapter 4- I'll Keep You Alive, if You Show Me The Way**

"Maybe, just maybe, if I close my eyes the pain will all just go away."

* * *

He moved through the midnight streets with practiced ease, neither seen nor heard. It was much easier without the physical weapons he usually wore strapped to his back. His intended destination was nearby, though the journey took longer than he expected. The capital had been recently overrun with displaced citizens fleeing the conflict with the Earth King to the east. The streets, normally open and clean were filled with the destitute. These Fire Nation men, women, and children had made a choice, flee the Earth Kingdom armies or be killed. They had chosen a life of misery.

It had not been an overnight phenomenon; the last year had seen an increase in warfare between the two nations, the previous few months the worst of all. After one hundred years, the war finally showed signs of ending, though not without a bloody final battle. Rumors of the Fire Nation's armies once again reaching the great wall at Ba Sing Se were carried to the capital with the fleeing people. Most had once been colonists, ready to change the conquered towns and land and bring glory to their country. The Earth Kingdom armies saw the potential for a strike of moral and exploited it, ravaging the new towns with every mile the encroaching Fire Nation advanced on the wall. It was no longer a fight of armies and soldiers; Fire Nation civilians had been the newest target.

The shadow stepped over a sleeping man in the alleyway he moved through, pausing just long enough to cheek the street for passing patrols. The Fire Lord viewed his own citizens, at least the ones sleeping on the streets, as a plague. Anyone found on the street would be dealt with accordingly. Many ended up at The Arena to fight their way back to freedom with honor, but most of those men were killed. The prisoners from other countries had a much stronger will to live. The young man shook his head with the thought; it saddened him that his own people seemed to have nothing to live for.

A set of guards on their rounds sent the man ducking between two buildings and behind a bakery to avoid them. He was not in the mood to explain himself to a set of guards tonight. As he waited for them to move far enough along, he heard a soft moan from the corner he stood opposite of. Normally he would have thought nothing of it, but whatever made the pathetic sound shifted and moved. He was met with big blue eyes glazed with exhaustion. Curiosity piqued, he moved closer and discovered a child in the shadows of the bakery building. Her clothing was torn to rags and her hands and face were filthy. Though the Fire Nation in winter was warm, he noticed that she had no shoes and no blanket or cloak as the other street people had. She wore the color of his nation, but her eyes spoke of another parentage. They simply stared at each other for a moment. The child had him captivated as she struggled to move away from him, deeper into her corner wedged between a wooden crate for trash from the bakery and the wall. Her strength fled her and she fell sideways. The young man immediately came closer and helped her up so she could sit leaning against the stone wall. He could see her eyes struggling to focus.

His own needs could wait, this he knew; this child needed help, desperately. A child could not control his or her fate, their lives were handed to them with no say otherwise. He felt pity.

She was nothing but bones when he scooped her into his arms to carry her away. Avoiding the patrols was completely necessary now; he would never get the Fire Lord to understand why he was saving the 'filth and pollution of his fine city'. Luckily, his destination was just slightly out of the way of his original goal.

The orphanage in town was a decent building. Being the capital city, most of the children housed inside had part high ranking or even noble blood in their veins, but neither parent could afford, be it politically or monetarily, to keep them. Even so, the building was well cared for and would give the child the best chance at moving forward. The young man guessed that she could not have been more than six years old; she was so tiny. He thought to his youngest cousin, trying to remember when she had been this frail and shook his head. Approaching the building from the back, the man passed under a still burning lantern high above the door. His shadow flew onto the wall behind him before he could kill the flame. His blue demon mask shone in the last spark of light. Luckily, no one was out to see.

The Blue Spirit peered into the window and paused. Rows and rows of bedrolls filled the dormitory room to capacity. The children nearest the windows had kicked off their covers. Their too large sleeping shirts embroidered with the symbol of the orphanage on the top left, dwarfed their scrawny bodies. They weren't starving as the girl in his arms was, but they weren't doing too much better. It seemed the war had sucked even the orphanage's wealthy benefactors dry of excess coin. The Blue Spirit made another mental note of more changes for the future and stood stone still with the child tucked in his arms. He pushed a matted lock of her brown hair away from his face as she snuggled into the crook on his neck. He felt the heat on her skin from fever. The young man had a choice to make; he could still deliver her here and be left to wonder if she even survived, or he could think of somewhere she would get the attention to heal.

Conveniently, he did not need to think too long for the answer. It was not the ideal solution, since he would be choosing a not so honorable path for the child, but at least she wouldn't die. The child's breathing was so shallow at times that if he didn't feel her breath against his neck every so often he feared she had already left him.

Again he took to the shadows and moved back the way he had come up the street. Finally, the building he had intended to find at the start of the night came into view. The sign read 'Spit-Fire' and the lights on the main floor were out. He knew any customers, aside from himself, would be upstairs at this point, enjoying themselves the way only they could at such an establishment. He moved silently to the back door and lifted a hand to knock. The door opened before he could touch it and the Blue Spirit came face to face with the medic who worked at The Arena. The middle aged man recognized him for his fighting persona and gave him a sly look until he noticed the child balanced in his arms.

"I assume you're not here for the _older_ girls then?" the doctor asked, nodding at the child. The Blue Spirit was stunned. Whatever he had done it must have been good, the solution to his problem was standing right in front of him.

"She's dying," was the first thing he could say.

"So why come here?" the doctor questioned. Even as he spoke, he set down his bag and motioned for the man to put the child on the step. The man under the mask wondered why the arena doctor would tend to the occupants in the building instead of one of the city doctors. Before he could respond, the doctor placed two fingers at the girls' neck and instructed the man to stop him when he counted to ten. He counted. The doctor nodded.

"She's starving and is hot with fever," he stated. The Blue Spirit already knew that. Anyone with eyes could see that. The doctor kept talking. "Her heart rate is slow, and the flow is incredibly weak. It's nothing some attention and good food won't cure. Though the fever concerns me, it's not much, but it might become serious if left untreated."

"Will you heal her?" asked the Blue Spirit.

"Why do you care so much for his child? I'm sure you're too young for her to be yours. She's a street urchin." The doctor stated. His voice was not condescending; he was truthfully curious.

"I'm not sure," the young man answered. And he wasn't sure; he had passed children on the street, sick, begging, and even dying. He had not been compelled to save any of them. Not until now. He knew what his father would say about the encounter; he would go on with quotes about destiny and what not. The young man never truly thought about any of that until this moment.

"Take her," the Blue Spirit ordered, almost pleading. "Heal her. Maybe she can help you with your work. You'll work yourself to death alone old man."

"What's a little girl going to do to help me?" the doctor asked. The child opened her eyes slowly, struggling to regain consciousness as the voices spoke over her. She tried to focus but the world blurred again and her eyes fell shut. She only saw one thing clearly: the mask of the blue spirit.

"Not only a girl, but a Water Tribe girl," the doctor sighed, watching her fall into her quasi state of consciousness. "She belongs to someone. She has to."

"Or she's a half-blood, a bastard," the Blue Spirit stated. "These were nice clothes at one point. It's not uncommon to kick half-bloods out if the one parent dies or the household falls into ruin. I've seen it happen. Please, take her with you." The doctor sighed; looking down at the girl as she barely clung to life.

"I can't afford-"

The blue spirit pulled out a small pouch of coins, gold coins. The black outfit he wore was not the same one as he wore in The Arena. He needed pockets and the ability to switch back to his real self if in a jam without anyone putting the two roles together. He knew what a stir that would cause if anyone found out his true identity. The doctor took the pouch. His eyes widened at the sheer weight.

"How many women did you plan to go through tonight?" the doctor exclaimed.

"Watch over her, this should be more than enough," the Blue Spirit said, ignoring the comment. He watched as the medic pocketed the gold and then lifted the child and his bag into his arms. When he walked down the street, the young man under the mask breathed out a sigh of relief and walked into the brothel with a clean conscience.

* * *

Short chapter yes, But we get to see the world from our favorite arena fighter. Have any guesses as to who he is?

I think I might keep with this style of alternating Katara's POV with that of other characters in the story if you all like it and think it works.

The title of the chapter comes from the song lyrics of 'Give Me a Sign' by Breaking Benjamin.

Next chapter shall be up soon. As always, tell me how you think the story is going! :)


	5. Its Good to See you Again

**Chapter 5 - Its Good to See You Again**

"As he sat there injured, something inside me awoke, as if it had simply been forgotten."

* * *

Sounds of steel clashing woke Katara the next morning. Blinking open blue eyes, the child looked around the clean room she found herself in. The wall she faced was covered with a tall shelf that held many books and a few dying plants. Curtains blew gently in front of the open window over the cot she slept on. Flashes of the night, almost dreamlike fragments of memory surfaced in her mind. She saw a stool set beside her bed, a lone glass of water sitting on it, waiting. Katara sat up and felt her head spin. She was forced to wait a moment for her balance to return before she reached for the glass and downed the entire thing.

"Oh, you're up," stated a voice. The girl looked up to see a middle aged man walk into the room and approach the bed she slept in. She clutched the empty water glass. He asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry," she answered slowly. The man chuckled to himself and offered her a small plate with pieces of bread, sliced meat, and cheese; everything was cut into small pieces. She would have wondered why if she had not been so hungry. The last few weeks had been nothing but bad luck for her. With the increasing amounts of refugees, whom Katara had no idea why these Fire Nation citizen were in the streets, her ability to steal food while she searched for her father and brother or even anyone from her tribe had been extremely limited.

"Now eat _slowly_," the man explained. "I'll get you more water." When he returned, the food was gone. He offered Katara the water cup. She drank it slowly as he talked to her from the stool where he rested.

"I didn't think you'd make it through the night," he stated. "You were shaking when I got you. I think dehydration had set in," he paused, and then he added, "I sat with you last night, sitting you up, giving you sips of water every hour or so. I guess it was like having a baby to care for. But I'm glad you're looking better. He'd kill me if I let you die." The child wasn't sure if the man was kidding or not, she assumed so.

"Who?" the girl asked. She did not know of anyone still in her life that cared for her.

"You wouldn't know him," the man answered.

"Was it the man in the blue mask?" asked the girl. She squinted her eyes as she thought. "He was the Blue Spirit right? The fighter in the arena."

"You recall what happened last night?" the man asked after he nodded in response to her question. The girl shook her head.

"Only pieces," she explained. After a moment of silence proved she would share no more on her own, the man prompted her.

"What's your name, little one?" he asked.

"Katara," came her answer. Her name enough answered the man's next question about her parentage: it was not a Fire Nation name.

"Well Katara, I've been tasked with your recovery by your rescuer," the man stated. "When you are healthy once more, you are welcome to assist me here at The Arena, as was his recommendation, or I can attempt to find you another-"

"We're in the arena?" Katara asked, she scrambled to kneel at the window, fought the dizzy spell which overcame her and looked outside, still swaying. The afternoon market scene was all she saw. The man helped her sit back down on the cot and motioned for her to sip more of the water.

"I'm the doctor who looks after the fighters," he explained. "This building is part of the stadium's walls. Out this window is the city surrounding it and inside through the main room is the door to the arena floor. Silence fell as the words settled in Katara's head.

"A doctor," Katara sighed, thinking of GranGran. She held back tears. Kanna told it her it was not safe to stay with Oran Zu, how did she know it was safe to stay with this man? She did not want him to send her away to someone else as he had been about to mention. He seemed kind; Katara decided to take her chances here then brave the capital city once more. It had been terrifying watching the other people who stayed out on the street being rounded up by the Fire Nation soldiers. She had become good at blending into corners, becoming small and invisible. She would much rather stay here then face that again. She turned to him and said."If I wish to stay and help you here, what should I call you?"

"My name is Shiyu Tung," he smiled. "But please, call me Shiyu, Katara. Everyone else does. Well, that or just Doctor." The child nodded and finished her water, savoring every drop.

"Now, you stay in bed for the rest of the day, sleep is best right now. I'll get you more to drink," the doctor smiled.

...

"I need more bandages to stop the bleeding," Katara called. The earthbender in front of her lay on the polished stone table the doctor had in the main room of the area he and Katara called home. The whole living space was minimal compared to her last residence. There was the main area where they worked with the injured almost in front of the doorway that lead into the Arena. No wall separated the cooking area from it, which made heating and fetching water much easier. Beyond the kitchen was the room that Katara had taken over, once Shiyu's medical library. There was a set of steps in the main room that rose into the second level, where the doctor's own bedroom was. Under the steps was the single bathroom. It was sparse, but neither of them seemed to mind.

The earthbender grunted in pain as Katara applied more pressure to the gash in his arm. Today's first match had been him against a sabertooth mooselion. He won, but the animal took a good chunk out of his arm in the process. The doctor returned with his stitching needle and more cloth.

"Flush the wound and I'll stitch it shut," the doctor explained, though he did not need to. Katara had already moved into position to best help. After five years of working as his assistant she knew what to do in almost any situation. It had been hard at first, the feeling of panic when she wouldn't do what the doctor asked quick enough, or when the injury was so gruesome she felt sick to her stomach. She learned quickly she couldn't save everyone, though most fighters never made it through the doorway if they were too badly injured.

At first, she simply fetched all the objects that Shiyu requested: 'get another rag, 'fill that bucket with water', 'put this needle in the fire for ten seconds'. She picked up his techniques quicker than he expected, thus he gave her more responsibilities. She thrived in her new role. Soon she gained his trust completely, and he saw her as more of an equal than just an assistant. He would have never guessed the sickly child he had been tasked with reviving would become such an asset.

Katara had truly proven her worth two years previous when Shiyu fell ill from food poisoning one of the days when there were matches in The Arena. Every seven days The Arena opened for the gladiator sports and betting. That happened to be the one day he fell ill. Before the matches began Katara sat with him, trying to coax him to get a nasty concoction of herbs and minerals into his stomach and changing out the cool towels on his forehead and neck. Once the fighting began she assisted the injured to the best of her abilities all while caring for the doctor between patients.

She made it through the day exhausted, sweaty, and splattered with blood. Luckily, no one had been had been in such serious condition that they died on her watch. The worst case was a waterbender who suffered burn on his neck and a gash on his left shoulder. Burns she could handle, they just needed to be cleaned with cool water, the already formed scar tissue removed and the healing salve applied with clean linen. She was fortunate no one had been ripped to pieces and needed stitching, as the man she held down now did. The concept was simple enough, but it was a job for two people and the doctor could perform this type of task with his eyes closed. After that day, the doctor thanked Katara for her work, even mentioned that she had more than repaid him for saving her life when she had been nine, almost ten.

"Just a few more stiches," the doctor explained aloud, bringing Katara back to the present. She had her weight, which wasn't much, leaned on top off the bender to keep him still. Most of warriors thrashed and jerked wildly when faced with the stitching needle. While she had made up the body mass she had lost while living on the streets, she was still a thin girl for her age. It was not helpful when trying to restrain a muscle bound warrior. The doctor tied up the thick threads and moved aside while Katara poured water over the sewed-up wound to clean it once more.

"I want him back in seven days to check on the stitches," the doctor explained to the guards. It was standard protocol.

"You'll have to tell his new owner," the one firebender explained. At least one arena guard always accompanied the wounded into the doctor's medical room. They typically waited at the entryway, out of sight and typically earshot. They had better things to do then listen to Shiyu and Katara pass instructions on healing. At first, the guards had frightened Katara, bringing back mental pictures of when she had been brought here as a small child with her tribe. The guards asked about her when she started helping Shiyu as well, questioning where she had come from. The doctor had well-rehearsed answers and gold coins from the Blue Spirit's payment if they asked too many questions. The guards learned quickly to ignore her.

"Doesn't he belong to the stadium?" asked Shiyu. "I thought bender's aren't allowed outside it." Katara dotted herbal ointment onto the angry line of stitches on the earth bender's arm and helped him sit up, her back to the conversation. She

"They aren't," the taller guard explained, "but a rich noble is buying all the fighters he thinks are any good and is training them with the official acceptance of the Firelord. He thinks he'll make a ton of money off the betting revenue. The Firelord is looking to tax the money he makes. The fighters will be moved to a separate section of cells, but they'll still be housed here. The new owner is bringing in his own guards. " Katara offered the earthbender a cup of water mixed with pain numbing herbs. The door was thrown open and another warrior was pushed inside. The doctor straightened.

"Katara, take a note for me," he called, guiding the new injured man to the table. His face was covered in blood and he shook like he was shivering. Katara moved to the instrument table and dipped her brush in a pot of open ink. It had been a pleasant surprise when Shiyu learned the little girl knew her letters and had decent handwriting.

"The gash on your fighter's arm was stitched up and cleaned. To avoid infection and to make sure the wound closes properly he needs to be back in my office in seven days' time. Plenty of rest is required to maintain full mobility," the doctor recited. Katara blew on the paper, drying her letters in an instant, and gave it to the doctor to pin onto the men's belt. She began washing the blood from the new patient's face. The lone soldier escorted the earthbender out and the other remained to watch the new patient.

Katara finished wiping all the blood from the man's face and discovered the gash that caused it. It ran from his eyebrow to just above his ear and through his light brown hair. Shiyu watched as she patted it clean and applied the medicated ointment he made each day. They sent the man on his way.

The rules of The Arena had changed over the years that Katara worked there, thus keeping the medical office busier than ever. Before, matches had almost always been to the death; she learned if a fighter won ten matches consecutively he was freed from fighting and allowed to live as a citizen of the city, no matter his nationality. In her five years there, she had only seen three men who had done it. Even once they won, they were not allowed to leave the capital and return to the homes they had been taken from. Though she knew it would have been impossible for her to return home, she did not agree with the ruling. The winners could not be truly free if they couldn't go home, could they?

Now, a fighter could win as long as they immobilized their opponent. Death was still how many matches ended up being lost, but more and more fighters were simply knocking out their enemies or wounding them enough to give up. The office had been busy. Katara knew most of Shiyu's pay went into replenishing his supplies of herbs and medical necessities, since The Arena itself didn't pay for them, and he needed more and more of everything lately. She had often wondered how he recieved the money he did, since no one ever delivered it and he once told her he was paid to do his job. She was glad he was an excellent doctor. Anytime one of the masked nobles came in needing attention, he usually got a few extra gold coins for his work.

The next couple of matches ended without incident. If a fighter was killed, the body was dragged off to the crematory and they never saw it. Katara set about washing the dirty bandages and preparing the room for the next patient. The doctor vanished up into his room to work on a handbook he was creating for the new medic. He had been talking of retiring for the last few years, but he needed to find a replacement. His age, which Katara guessed was somewhere near sixty, was starting to catch up to him. The handbook detailed what to do in every situation he had come across. Katara did not want him to retire just yet; as gruesome as it could be, she enjoyed helping him with the injured fighters.

The door was pushed open; Katara jumped and accidently splashed dirty water onto her worn outfit. She tried her best to squeeze it out, and finally turned to guide the newest man in. She stoood still when she saw who it was and stared. The man stared back. Even after not seeing him for eight years, Katara recognized him. Her brother. He was beginning to look like their father, even under the dirt and grime that covered all the warriors. After what felt like hours, the firebender pushed him towards the stone table.

"Sit down boy," he commanded. He turned to Katara. "Get the doctor, he has a new patient.

"No need, I'm here," Shiyu called. He glanced at Katara who had just started to wring out a towel. He sent the firebender back to the entryway and took a look. Shiyu found it weird that his assistant had not moved in to clean the boy's injuries yet, she seemed to be in a state of shock.

"Minor cuts and a good sized burn on his side," Shiyu stated. "I'll trust you can handle this one on your own Katara." The doctor watched the fighter's eyes turn to his assistant with barely concealed surprise as she nodded. "I'll be in the other room if you need me." Shiyu left them. Katara lifted the cool cloth in her hands and pressed it to the burn.

"Jeeesh Katara," Sokka hissed as the cloth touched his skin, "that hurts." She was silent, pulling the rag back. When she finally looked up, tears had filled her eyes.

"Sokka," she sniffled. She threw her arms around him, dirt, blood and all, and gave him a long hug. The boy winced, and his sister let go. She noticed he was clad in the typical fighter's clothing, a grey set of threadbare pants with no shoes. He wore a dark blue waist scarf that looked like it had seen better days.

"I was looking for you and dad," she smiled. "I never knew I actually made it to you." She went back to cleaning the sand out of each cut on his arms and back, needing to pause to wipe hot tears from her cheeks.

"Dad was worried," Sokka explained as he sat on the table. "When they took us away, he was sure GranGran and you would be separated."

"We weren't. A nobleman took us both. He wanted GranGran to watch his two children. I guess I was just a bonus at that point," Katara paused, took a breath, and added "GranGran is gone Sokka, she... got sick." There was a pause as the both of them remembered their grandmother. Then Katara explained further, finishing her story. "I ran away looking for you and Dad. I ended up here. Are you two still together with the village?" Sokka looked around the room, noticing the simple artwork hung on the wall and the plants in the corners. He looked to his sister, noting that the clothing she wore seemed to be in good shape, though it was worn with use. The burgundy vest tunic was slightly too big for her, though the brown tie at her waist helped, and she had cut the loose sleeves on the darker undershirt to fall at her elbows instead of her wrists.

"A lot of our village is gone Katara. There are only five of us left now," Sokka stated. "And Dad and I won't be together for long. Some noble is buying up the fighter's contracts and trying to make a ton of money. He bought mine after watching a few of my matches. Dad is staying here. I'll tell him you're fine before I'm sent wherever they're taking us."

"The guards mentioned that. They said your just moving to another set of cells." Katara said. "What's a contract?" She bandaged a deeper slice on his arm and pressed the cool cloth to his burn once more.

"All of us have one, even you," Sokka explained. "We watched another group of prisoners of war come in one day while we practiced. Somehow, the guards forgot that we weren't supposed to be let out during the process and we watched how it happened before they herded us inside again. Every time one person was sold off, the man who bought them was handed a signed piece of paper. One for each prisoner: that's the contract. Its proof they own you. The other warriors called them 'birth certificates' in jest but as long as someone else holds it, none of us are free. I never saw mine or dad's but I guess they're stored somewhere in the Arena." Katara recalled when each of the benders won their freedom after their tenth match, the announcer would tear up a sheet of paper and hand the man a brand new scroll. She wondered what Mr. Zu had done with hers since she ran away.

Katara wrung out the cloth and applied it a second time to Sokka's burn. The skin was red and angry, it would blister and might scar. She noticed the other injuries on her brother's body and desperately hoped this burn would not be added to the count. The water on her hands tingled as she pressed the towel flat on his skin. And then it glowed.

"Katara?" Sokka asked, his voice a few octaves off. "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure," she breathed. Within moments the cooling light faded and the towel was dry. When she pulled it away the burn had vanished.

"Katara," hissed her brother. "You didn't tell me you were a-," he lowered his voice, "a you-know-what! And a healer too!"

"I didn't know I could do that," Katara answered in shock. She had not even thought about her bending in years. Her new job was so fully consuming that she had been able to forget about what could happen to her if she was discovered. She lowered her voice. "I mean, I knew I could bend, but not that. That's new!... Sokka, no one can know!"

"You don't think I know not to say anything?" her brother questioned, his voice still lowered. He looked away for a moment, then spoke with such graveness in his voice. "There was a woman bender in the cell a few down from ours for a while. The arena isn't a place for women. There's no way I'd ever let them find out about you." Sokka gritted his teeth as he stopped speaking, but Katara could tell he had more to say about the topic at hand. Something had happened, and she knew he didn't want to share it with her.

"What happened to her?" asked Katara.

"She was killed after two matches; at least we think she was. She wasn't seen again after that, though the guards looked smug about the whole incident. Usually they just ignore the deaths, they've seen so much of it and don't care for the prisoners," Sokka explained after a moment's hesitation. "Don't worry Katara, your secret is safe with me."

"Good," Katara nodded, looking at the fresh pink skin. "I'm going to wrap where the burn was so it looks like it's still there. Keep this on for a few days just to be safe." She paused. "How did you know what I was doing was healing?"

"We met a healer from the north when we first arrived. He was an old man, but he still did what he could without the guards knowing when one of us came back slightly injured. He died after a few months in his sleep." Sokka explained. "He was a good man. He helped Dad out after his first match when he came back injured." The doctor returned to the room just as Katara tied off the knot on the bandage.

"Nice work Katara," Shiyu smiled. "This young man looks as good as new." Sokka slid off the table and grabbed Katara's shoulder, facing her. It was a warrior's gesture back in the Southern Water Tribe. Even as young children they learned it meant 'good luck' to those headed into battle or off to a fight. She returned it and gave him a smile before the two of them parted. Sokka was led back with the guard and escorted out. Shiyu turned to Katara when the door was shut.

"Someone you know?" he asked. Katara hesitated, answering only after a moment's thought.

"My brother," she explained. "I'm glad he's still alive. My father as well. They've been here so long."

"Children under twelve don't fight to the death in The Arena. They're typically put against each other in larger matches of simple hand to hand combat... They've done well though. You more than anyone should know the obstacles they face to keep on living as a fighter here." Katara nodded. It would be so easy to give up in the arena. Any clean cut by one's enemy would end a life simply. Yet they all chose to keep on fighting to live another day in hopes they would be free.

"I'm sure your brother will be fine," the doctor added, placing a hand on Katara's shoulder. "He seems like a strong young man." The two of them stared at each other for a minute. Katara smiled up at him, appreciative of the kindness he always showed her, and Shiyu subconsciously understanding that the moment they just shared was not typical between people of their different social standings. He did not plan to dwell on it.

They fell back into their routine as if nothing ever happened when the next fighter was led in. Since the workload the next fighting day was slow, the doctor suggested they watch the matches from the balcony. Katara had never been on the second level of the office. It was the doctor's personal room and study. Once they moved up the steps, she was amazed at the amount of space there was to the single room. It made sense the more she thought about it, since the two levels had the same amount of space and this floor had less rooms in total. An open window which led out to a balcony looking over the arena was the main feature of the room. On the other side was a set of windows to the market and buildings outside, the same view Katara woke up to except one story higher. She noticed a second set of stairs in the back corner.

"Where do the stairs go?" Katara asked. She followed Shiyu onto the balcony and immediately was drawn into the fight below.

"Down to the backdoor leading outside the stadium," the doctor explained. "When they lock up The Arena at night, I still need to leave sometimes if I'm called in to look after someone who is sick or injured." Katara nodded in understanding and chastised herself for being stupid enough to believe the office only had one door. The doctor was a free man. He had a right to leave whenever he wanted.

The match ended and two new opponents came out: both were nonbenders with swords. The swordplay was fun to watch, it almost looked choreographed. Eventually the weaker fighter yielded when the other broke his stance. They left the field without any blood being spilt. The crowd still went wild. They watched as the day went on, only being needed twice right after the break for lunch for minor injuries. Finally the last few fights were announced and Katara heard a familiar name.

The Blue Spirit walked on onto the arena floor to face off against two benders, one earth and the other water. She really had not had the chance to sit and watch the fighting since she came here. Every now and then she would open the door to the arena to watch one or two matches before being needed to help with a new patient, but she never had this much down time. It was exciting to be able to watch a full match. Somewhere deep down, Katara knew that it could very easily be her fighting in the warriors' place for the crowds, but she never thought about it, so the connection had not been consciously made.

On days when the arena was not hosting the fighting matches and nothing else as going on inside its walls, she would accompany Shiyu to the market and replenish their supply of medicinal items. Not many venders had what they needed, so sometimes it would take all day to return victorious. Even though they were always searching for the supplies, Katara enjoyed leaving The Arena on these trips. She realized that since they always left through the man door and walked through the fighting area, that it made sense why she had not known about the back door.

The capital city was huge, even larger then what Katara could remember from when she roamed the streets years ago. The central city was laid out in a huge circle surrounding the palace and inside the jaws of the extinct volcano. The Arena had been built on the southern side of the city near the path that led down to the harbor. The waterbender had been unaware that the city was divided into two parts, harbor city and capital city, until one day the two of them made the long journey down to the bazaar near the water to locate a more unusual item known for its ability to numb muscles and nerves in very small areas of the body. The moment they reached the port and its surrounding homes and shops, Katara noticed the increase of refugees. They milled around, looking generally unhappy with their lives. Shiyu only shook his head when she asked about them and why they had gathered. The Firelord had essentially rid the elite city of them, but they had simply fled down here and gathered in the slums.

Except for that one occasion, Katara never left the city in the caldera. Slowly, she learned the area closet to the Arena, but once they moved into the maze of buildings, homes, and small markets further out she was lost. The people here seemed content with their lives, not thinking about anything other then what was come the next day. While the majority of the citizens in the elite city were rich, Katara did see a handful, mostly some shop owners and the freeborn servants, who did not dress in finery to walk the streets. Children would race in the walkways, weaving in and out of shoppers, pretending to be firebending soldiers chasing down the enemy. Laughter and loud voices always rang in her ears when they finished and returned home.

Even when they had nothing to go out to the market to find, Katara was never board. They typically were out searching the shops once a week at least. When they weren't, she picked through the doctor's library of health manuals and scrolls from other nations. Since they were all kept on the shelves in the room she slept in, still in the cot by the window, it was easy to select one at will and page through it. They all seemed to be thrown together, each book would contradict the others; it was incredible Shiyu knew what to do at all. Though, she had never seen him pick up any books except the ones written by Fire Nation authors. She wondered if he had had a tutor to teach him these things, as Bai did with writing and etiquette.

On days when Shiyu left her in the office alone, which he seemed content to do more often, Katara enjoyed the silence. No one ever came here when The Arena was closed, and by now she knew he vanished on specific days every year. The day that the sun filled the sky the longest was when she expected not to see him at all. She wondered where he went off to on the Summer solstice. He never took her with, and the market by her window was strangely quiet on those days. She never thought of following after him, she had other things to do to keep her occupied.

When he would leave her alone, Katara practiced her waterbending. Ever since she had healed Sokka, her interest in her seemingly forgotten ability grew. She never tried anything big, just tricks she could do with the water from the rag bucket. Without anything to go by or a master to teach her, Katara learned by trial and error. Her progress was slow, but she _was_ progressing. She was always sure to give herself a wide margin of time between when the doctor left on his rounds of house calls and when she could practice. As much as he had been good to her, she was not sure he would continue if he knew her secret.

Silver flashed in The Arena as the Blue Spirit drew his swords and deflected a boulder thrown his way. Katara had almost forgotten the fact that she had drifted while watching the match. The way he knew to move to avoid the attacks was mesmerizing. The match ended too soon when he finally did win by setting up his opponents in such a way so that they took each other out. From her vantage point, Katara spotted another balcony jutting out over the inner arena wall as the people on it went wild over the win.

"What's that area for?" asked Katara, pointing at the screaming band of people.

"That's where the betting takes place," the doctor explained with a sigh. Katara wondered if he had ever been there, betting on one of the fighters below. "The men who put a lot of money into their bets get to watch from there. This kid is worth a lot with the wins he's racking up. I'm sure he'd be swamped with challengers if people knew who he was. There's lots of speculation since he doesn't bend and is good with swords."

"Do _you_ know?" Katara asked eagerly. The Blue Spirit sheathed his dual swords and retreated to the shadows. Shiyu looked at Katara, trying to understand her question.

"I don't," the doctor said.

"Oh," came the girl's saddened reply.

"Why?" he asked.

"I want to thank him," she replied in a heartbeat. "For saving my life." Her response should not have surprised the doctor, but the purity of it caught him off guard. Such wholeheartedness was at a distinct lack in the fighting arena.

"I'm sure you'll get a chance," he explained, then quoted a friend with his next statement. "These things have a habit of going full circle." She gave him a smile and turned back to the stadium to watch the last match of the day.

* * *

Yay! Sokka's still alive, and Katara's doing pretty well for herself. I hope I described things decently so you can get a better picture of what's going on.

I also realized that I never posted the link to the cover art for this story. It is at my deviantart (username: gallopingcowgirl) if anyone wanted to see it bigger then the thumbnail fanfic provides.

Chapter title is the song lyrics from "Do you Remember" by Jay Sean

I'm loving all your comments and reviews! Next chapter is another short one, it should be up soon :)


	6. Every Change Life's Thrown At Me

**Chapter 6**- Every Change Life's Thrown At Me

"What did Shiyu know? There was no other explanation, I had to be dying."

* * *

The day preceded much like the ones before it. The crowds could be heard from the arena out his window, cheering for whom they wanted to win. He remembered the days when he had been young and stood amongst them in the stands. Of course, he had been partial to betting back then. He was never very good at it at The Arena or even betting in general. That might have been the reason he enjoyed what he did so much now. There was no luck involved in his practice, everything was skill. He was not here thanks to his luck, since he did not have much; he was the arena's medic purely thanks to his talent and determination, though paying off his betting debts might have contributed.

Shiyu heard Katara explain to the current patient what she was doing as she worked with him. It was something she had started on her own; he never did it himself. The men who came in did not need to know the medicine they were given, only that he was treating them. He heard her explain how the herb she was applying would kill any infection in the wound and nodded subconsciously. She had been a quick study, after a few panicking blunders the first several times, she picked things up remarkably well. Maybe the fact she had been so young attributed to that fact.

So he did not see it as luck when the girl child he had taken in was a quick learner and a gifted doctor in the making. It mattered not to him that she was from the Water Tribe and not Fire Nation, not anymore. The girl was good at what she did. The matter of any of her old masters no longer plagued him. It surprised him at first that no one had been looking for her. He knew for sure that she was not a freeborn fire nation citizen. Even the assumption the Blue Spirit had made had been proven false before long. The child had belonged to someone before she lived on the streets. If they had not come searching for her by now, they never would. Though, he would have liked to know where her contract ended up, just to keep everything official.

Slowly, without meaning to, Shiyu pieced together her background.

He knew she was of Water Tribe decent, though he didn't know if it was the north or south; he couldn't tell the difference either way. She had a brother and a father who fought in the gladiator games of The Arena. And she was young. Shiyu had always thought of the earth and water tribes as not as advanced as his own people. How else would they have lost the war his great nation had almost completely won and allowed themselves to be taken prisoner to slave away here for the victors?

Working as the medic, his views of his own nation had fallen, strictly in terms of the absence of humanity. He felt pity for fighters, but he still didn't think they were on his own level mentally. It was not until Katara had come into her own that he realized these people were just as capable as him, given the chance.

Finally, he realized what his nation was doing to the world. Surreptitiously watching his assistant with her brother had been his turning point. Not that he could do anything to change things.

Shiyu heard Katara escort the fighter out the door and then call him down for lunch. The games had paused outside for a moment as The Arena was readied for the bending matches. The doctor shut his journal and wiped the ink from his brush. Ever since had had let Katara take care of most of the injured, he had more time to work on his book of techniques for his successor. He still needed to find someone to replace him though; he was well aware of the fact that he wasn't getting any younger. He walked down the steps from his room and spotted Katara seated at the table in the front of his home and office, doubled over onto herself. Her eyes were closed tight and her arms gripped her hips in what appeared to be a selfhug.

"Katara?" asked Shiyu. "Are you ok?" The girl lifted her head in surprise and moved to stand.

"I'm fine," she stuttered. Shiyu watched her struggle to straighten up as she stood, gritting her teeth.

"Sit down Katara," Shiyu instructed. The girl obeyed, her eyes held worry as she watched him move to the fire under the teapot.

"I've been drinking willow bark," Katara spoke. Shiyu opened the teapot and nodded, seeing the truth in her statement.

"What hurts?" he asked. "Are you sick?" The girl shook her head and looked to her lap.

"My stomach feels like it's tied up in knots," she explained. "But it's not all the time. The pain comes and goes." Before Shiyu could offer advice on stomach remedies, Katara stood and hurriedly excused herself from the room. He heard the door to the bathroom close and set down the apple he had selected. When he didn't hear anymore sounds coming from the room she had vanished into, he assumed she had not dismissed a stomach ailment and wondered about issues further along the disgestive tract. He paused.

The doctor ran his assistant's age through his head, counting through the years she had assisted him and her likely age when she had shown up. She'd be around the right age. The realization sent Shiyu into his library of old health texts. He found the large book he had been looking for, pulling it from the shelf and flipping through it. The topic he was searching for was not something he was trained to handle, most men weren't. This was strictly women's stuff, except he had no one to explain this to the girl for him. He appeared the door and leaned against the wall.

"Are you ok Katara?" he asked. After a second, he heard her reply.

"No,"

"Katara, it's ok,"

"I'm dying," came her response. Shiyu took a calming breath; this was not going to be easy.

"No you aren't," he said. "When you feel slightly better come out and I'll explain it to you. This is completely natural." Shiyu waited, his finger wedged in the text on the page that he would hand over to Katara.

When she finally appeared, Shiyu guided her back to the table. He set the book down in front of her and then offered her more tea. He added an infusion of green crushed leaves that he knew would help her specific pains. She shifted in her seat, looking as physically uncomfortable as he felt.

"What's this?" Katara asked, tasting the new flavor in the tea.

"It will help," he offered. "Katara, what's happening now is a part of growing up for young women. Did you ever hear your mother or other women talking about their monthlies?" Katara shook her head.

"I was still very little back in my village," Katara said. She paused, thinking. "The only thing that seems similar is Moon times. Some of the older girls would talk about that. I didn't pay them too much attention though, so I don't know if thats what you mean or not." Shiyu knew the moon hid its face on a monthly interval, and even if that was not the correct word, no one would know the difference. Even if it was the wrong memory, it was a good comparison, so he took it.

"Well this 'Moon Time' happens once a month when a girl becomes a woman," Shiyu explained. He felt the heat rise in his cheeks.

"So this will happen every month?!" Katara exclaimed, face tight in panic.

"Yes," Shiyu nodded. He really had nothing more to offer the girl, aside from referencing the book. "Read this section, Katara. It explains everything you'd ever want to know about your month- I mean moon times." With that, Shiyu left the room with the lunch he hastily put together. The girl peered into the book as she sipped her tea and clutched her stomach once more. Shiyu did not want to be around if she had more questions. The subject was awkward enough already. He'd need to get her hygenic supplies now as well. _That_ would be a fun conversation with the shop keepers.

Shiyu had been exposed to the topic in medical school. That lesson had been the source of jokes and other lewd notions for the semester of classes as he trained to be a medic at the Fire Nation Military Academy. There was no specific school for doctors, but they were needed on the battle fronts, thus the military academy hosted their classes. The students in his medical class, being all men, were not thrilled to be learning about that undesirable side of the fairer sex. It was a short lesson, thankfully, since anything that was of use knowing they all already knew through experience or fell into the domain of midwives.

The book simply stated that once their monthlies began, a woman could bear children. But there was no mention as to how said children would come to be. The realm of women was still largely unexplained by men and there was no push to change that or even write down the newest studies. The doctors and midwives had pieced together some new information about baring children that was written in medical scrolls but was still not widely excepted outside of the most noble circles. Shiyu sat down at his desk upstairs in his bedroom and opened his manual once more. Giving the puberty talk was definitely _Not_ being added.

* * *

Another short chapter. Poor Shiyu getting all embarrassed. I assume it wasn't too awkward to read, since I hope the chapter gives Shiyu some more dimension as a character and begins to show that however much Katara knows about the world she can't know what she hasn't been taught. (which will come into play later in the story.)

Hint hint, we get to see our favorite prince soon! ;)

The chapter title is from the lyrics of the song 'Lessons Learned' by Carrie Underwood


	7. This Boy's Fire

**Chapter 7**—** This Boy's Fire**

"It was a warm fluttery feeling. It felt like hundreds of flutterbats trapped inside me, but it wasn't completely unpleasant."

* * *

For the next two years, life went to as normal. Katara got more chances to watch the matches since Shiyu allowed her to watch from the balcony. The last year alone brought more prisoners to The Arena as the Fire Nation increased it is grip on the rest of the world. She watched a single earthbender defeat two angry tigeroxes without breaking a sweat, a young man with two strange swords outmaneuver a waterbender and then try to escape, and even a trio of women warriors with fans put up against two benders. Katara enjoyed watching the waterbenders the most since her own training had hit a plateau. She wondered of the instruction those warriors must have received back in their villages. It wasn't from lack of time that she struggled; Shiyu was gone more often than before, leaving for extended periods of the day.

The morning before next fighting day it was announced that all the matches would be canceled in order to hold an Agni Kai. The guards stopped at the doctor's door to explain the procedure.

"The Agni Kai will begin at the sun's peak tomorrow. You are to wear the official clothing for the match and leave the door open to the arena in case there are any emergencies. This is high profile match, so make sure you represent the arena well." The guard glanced past Shiyu and at Katara who hovered in the next room.

"I'll need a new set of clothing then," Shiyu explained. "The ones I was given for the last Agni Kai no longer fit."

"Your robes will be delivered tonight then," the other guard added. When the door was shut, Katara moved forward with questions. Shiyu sat down.

"What's an Agni Kai?" she asked. "Why are the other matches being canceled for it?" She had never heard of whatever this event was before, even when she had been with Mr. Zu, and Bai would have surely wanted to see it if it was as entertaining as the regular matches were for her family. Katara could only guess that the occasion was rare and they did not happen that often.

"An Agni Kai is a firebending duel," Shiyu explained. "Typically, only military and royalty still practice them. This arena was specifically designed to house them hundreds of years ago when it was first built, but the duels have fallen out of fashion with the majority of the populace; it's easier to pay someone off to get your honor back then to fight them for it. Even with that being said, the whole city will probably fill the stands tomorrow to watch. There hasn't been one in almost six years. It actually took place a few months before you came into my possession."

"Oh," Katara replied. "Do they fight to the death? Will you even be needed for the match then?"

"They _can_ kill each other, it hasn't happened in my lifetime, but it isn't unheard of if one of the duelists loses control. Most fights end only in bad burns, as is the nature of firebending, and losing one of the duelists would most likely upset some form of political power somewhere," Shiyu explained. "So we will probably be assisting the duelers after the match."

"Who's fighting?" asked Katara.

"I don't know," Shiyu answered. "We find out with everyone else tomorrow when they announce it."

"Who fought during the last one?" she asked. "You said only nobility and royalty fight...?"

"And high ranking military members typically," Shiyu replied. "One of the duelists typically does something that throws the other's honor into question." When Katara tilted her head in confusion, Shiyu explained further. Katara really had no concept of this elevated honor that the Fire Nation elites seemed to live by. She lived day-to-day, caring for other people's wellness.

"Maybe one of them speaks out of turn or ruins the other's reputation in a political affair. It truly could be anything." Shiyu explained. "The last Agni Kai was fought between two of the princes. I don't know the details surrounding what transpired, but the event was a somber occasion." Katara nodded in understanding when Shiyu got up and moved around the room to go over the supplies they would need for the next day.

The robes arrived later that evening by the same guard. He knocked on the door and passed them carefully to Shiyu, telling him they were his to alter as he saw fit. Katara lifted the silk robe from his arms and discovered a second set, made small enough to fit her lithe frame. Shiyu chuckled at the surprise on her face.

"Alright Katara," he said. "We only have twelve hours to get these to fit." She laughed and began her alterations.

Shiyu's robes were too long. He was a short man and his pants dragged on the ground when he first put them on. Katara could easily see over his head when she stood up straight; absentmindedly she wondered when she had grown tall enough to do so. His tunic and undershirt were slightly large as well, but that fix was easy enough.

Katara had much more work to do on her own set. She could not work in baggy clothing and the outfit was obviously designed for a man. Hours before the sun rose she finally finished the garment just the way she wanted it. Her sleeves were shortened to above her elbows, the robes cut off at her calves. The tunic fit snug against her torso following the curve of her hips and waist, and it was hand stitched shut at the top so she did not need to constantly keep tightening it for fear her bindings would show if she bent over to pick something up. Finally finished with her alterations, she lay on her bed in the library room.

She slept until the noise in The Arena woke her. Shiyu must have let her sleep in.

The announcer called out to the stands that the duel would begin shortly. He explained the duelists would be Admiral Zhao and Prince Zuko. Katara watched from the window in Shiyu's second story room, not daring to step out onto the balcony, just in case her public presence might put Shiyu's job in jeopardy somehow. He had not told her she could not go outside, but he had not explained much about today's proceedings either. The doctor watched from the open doorway on ground level. She heard the crowd call out chastisements when the prince's name was called.

Katara knew nothing of the rulers of the Fire Nation. All she was aware of was that the Firelord was Azulan and he was currently on his last leg. No one had told her any more, and she had not bothered to ask. She did not know why his own people would not cheer for him. Even if the boy had done something to be worthy of their jeers, his people should still support him. Her own people would never do anything so cruel. Insults were given yes, but not when the person needed his or her whole village's support.

As the two men walked onto the platform, the stadium fell completely silent. It was eerie. The first blast was thrown by the Admiral, which caught the young prince off guard. He looked about her age, though she guessed he was most likely older since boys matured and grew later then girls. The boy attacked with a barrage of fireblasts from his fists. The Admiral avoided them easily.

Looking up, Katara saw the shadowed booth surrounded by guards where she was told the Firelord and his guests watched from. It was higher than the betting balcony and slightly more towards the northern edge of the stadium. In the guarded section she sawtwo sets of people. the front row seemed to move with action, flinching and leaning forward over the railing with each attach, but out of the public eye she could make out more people. They all looked stoically on, not one seemed to move from where Katara could see. She assumed they were made up of the Firelord and his family.

Flashes of fire drew her back to the match. The two benders circled for a moment, sizing the other up. The prince attacked, but he was pushed backwards as Zhao countered. It appeared that the Admiral would win until the prince dropped into a crouch and spun. The flames from his feet surprised his older opponent and he stumbled backwards. Zuko jumped back to his feet and shot more flames in his direction. It wasn't possible to avoid all the fireballs.

Zhao ducked and twisted to avoid being hit in the face and moved straight into the path of one headed for his knees. The crowd made a sound of pain as the fire seared through the fabric instantly. Zuko charged forward to take advantage of Zhao's disorientation but moved too late. Even Katara caught his moment of hesitation.

The Admiral recovered quicker than the prince had assumed and punched a flaming fist directly at the boy's face. Zuko twisted slightly to avoid it and received a burning fist to the shoulder instead. He winced, falling backwards, clutching his shoulder. Zhao shot more flames at him, but Zuko rolled and sprang to his feet with renewed energy. The Arena did not host many firebending matches. the only time she got to see it was if a masked noble came in who could bend. as different as it was to the waterbending, Katara enjoyed watching the benders. It seemed to require a different mindset to firebend. Waterbending appeared to be concentration and finesse, whereas firebending looked more to be about anger and power. Either way, the fighting style was interesting to watch, especially when there was no fear of being burned.

Blast after blast of hungry flames forced Zhao backwards until he stumbled. Zuko moved in, waited a moment and blasted a highly concentrated ball of fire at what Katara assumed was the man's forehead. She could not be sure, since the Prince stood in her line of sight as he attacked. The audience cheered and Zuko stood triumphant as the winner.

"Katara," the doctor called from below. "Are you ready?" The girl called back that she was and hurried down the steps to prepare the cool water and towels for treating burns. She listened to the crowd's applause die down and saw two figures approach the office.

"I'm fine Uncle," the prince stated, even as he shielded his burned skin with his opposite hand. "The burn isn't that bad."

"Now Prince Zuko," the older man stated. "You need to get it looked at while it's still new."

"Fine Uncle," the prince replied. The doctor welcomed the two of them inside.

"Excellent match your highness," he bowed. "Please come in and sit down, my assistant and I will look after you and see what we can do." The prince moved towards the table where Katara stood folding clean bandages. She bowed to him just as Shiyu had done then lifted her eyes to his own and told him to take a seat on the table. The boy did as he was told, glancing at the doctor.

"Shiyu, when did you get this lovely young assistant?" The old man who had accompanied the prince inside chuckled.

"A while back Iroh," Shiyu smiled. "She's been very helpful around here." Katara smiled to herself as she examined the angry burn on the prince's bare chest. Like most of The Arena fighters, he only wore a set of pants tied around his hips. Unlike them, his pants were made of expensive red silk an were also tied at his ankles, she assumed it was so they would not get in the way of his firebending. She slowly found herself examining more then just his clothing, or lack there of.

It was different standing before a young man her own age. Most of the men she worked with were older or even losing their will to live. This man was full of life. She was used to keeping a highly professional air to herself; she had seen thousands of men before, all without shirts to cover their muscled chests. She figured it was just because he was so close in age to her, not the fact that he was attractive, that had her feeling nervous. She looked away from his injury, peering up to his face. When his eyes feel on her she glanced away quickly. As she worked, the older men talked and joked. Katara guessed that Shiyu knew the young prince's uncle somehow. _Why else would he speak to him so familarly?_

"So, how did Prince Zuko do today, Iroh?" Shiyu asked. "Has he been taking your advice while you've been gone?"

"Today's match was far better than the last one. Zuko remembered his forms and only made that one mistake."

"I underestimated him Uncle," Zuko admitted from his seat on the stone table with a frown. "It won't happen again." His uncle laughed. Wringing the cool cloth out, Katara placed it over the burn. Zuko shifted, the skin was tender, and he hissed in discomfort.

"Now Zuko, let the young woman do her job without moving too much," the older man said.

"No, it's alright," Katara stated. "I'm sorry." She bowed her head as she spoke hurriedly before turning back to the burn. Shiyu moved closer to oversee the procedure. He nodded and returned to where Prince Iroh sat nearby.

One could tell the burn had been caused by a fist. Where each knuckle had made contact, the burn was darker, more severe. The print was grotesquely perfect. The rest of his chest was flawless though, Katara hoped her work would be enough to keep it from leaving a scar like the one that covered half his face. She looked again at the burned skin on his face quickly. It was enough to make her shiver at the thought of how he must have gotten it. She had not neglected to notice the unmarred side though. Even with the burn, the boy before her was quite attractive, and the feelings of attraction were not something she was used to feeling.

Katara applied slight pressure to the burn and felt the prince tense under her hands.

"Sorry," she winced again. The prince watched her, obviously bored with the older men's conversation; she refused to look away from the burn on his chest in fear her face was as red as his injury. Her mind raced as she turned over her thoughts, keeping them from straying too far into truly unknown territory. She dared not glance up again. Feeling his eyes on her made her more nervous then she had ever been while healing a patient. Instead of worrying too much, she thought to why her patients seemed to love watching her work. She did not see anything exciting about what she did; well, nothing she did to the fighters. Healing, on the other hand, _was_ interesting, which gave her an idea. When he finally looked away to listen to something his uncle was saying, Katara took her chance. She could now do it while he was watching, but she would prefer not to.

She grabbed the bowl of burn ointment and lowered the towel. Dabbing with two fingers, Katara applied the medicated salve slowly. She focused on the moisture in the rub. The practice she had gotten with healing was minimal, but she was determined to not let this young men suffer another scar from a burn. The one covering his face was enough to make her feel sorry for him. That, and the fact that the butterflies in her stomach thought it was a good idea to keep her hands on his chest.

Ever since Katara found out about her healing abilities with her brother, she had practiced. But to be able to get more experience, she needed to work with injuries that were not on the warriors who would turn her in to the guards. The first time was the hardest, holding her hand over a flame on the writing desk in her makeshift room until it burned was almost impossible. She cried out when she finally managed it. Shiyu rushed into the room, but Katara laughed it off, tears still in her eyes, saying she had only gotten too close to the candle. She waved him away and struggled to heal the burn the way she had healed her brother.

It took many weeks of constant practice after she got a hold on basic healing to discover how to keep the water from glowing so it would not give her away. It was more work, but finally the water yielded to her urging and stayed its normal transparent color. Now she could work right under a patient's nose and not be discovered.

Zuko jumped when Katara was only halfway done with covering the burn with the ointment, secretly healing it with her bending.

"The tingling is normal," Katara explained, cutting off the question she knew he would ask. "Hold still now, I'm almost done." The ointment itself was just a mix of gentle herbs to nourish the skin and cool the heat from the burn. It had no special healing properties otherwise. By itself, the rub could not make the redness or swelling fade instantly and it certainly did not cause tingling as Katara explained to the few she had already used it on, practicing. That was her water bending. But no one needed to know the difference. She focused once more and finished covering the burn with the medicated lotion. It was an olive green colored semi-translucent paste with chunks of ground up herbs floating within it. Her heart hammered when she lifted her fingers away. The burn was noticeably lighter, the shape of the fist which formed it blurred to a simple patch of discolored skin. Katara moved to wrap it in fresh cloth, but the prince's uncle noticed the change.

"Shiyu," he smiled. "Your assistant is amazing!" Katara flushed red and began wrapping the wound with shaking hands.

"It's just the ointment," she lied. "It brings down the redness. The area is still tender." She turned back to Zuko to tie off the bandage. "Did you have any other injuries?" The boy shook his head 'no' and moved to get off the table without shifting the wrap.

"You've found yourself a keeper Shiyu," Iroh smiled. "She's just as good as you." The two men laughed and Iroh clapped Zuko on the back. The door to the office swung open, cutting all their elated moods short.

"Where's the doctor?" called a booming voice. "I have a burn that needs healing."

"Admiral Zhao, it's customary that the loser wait until the winner leaves with a clean bill of health before he enters," Iroh frowned.

"Yes well, I have places to be, unlike like you two," the Admiral snarled. He looked to Shiyu and then over to Zuko and Katara. His eyes rested on her for a moment too long. Shiyu noticed and called to her.

"Katara," Shiyu stated as he led the new man inside and over to the table. "Please escort the Prince Zuko and Prince Iroh out while I look after the Admiral's injury."

"Oh no doctor," Zhao said, suddenly completely respectful with his tone. "I'm not _that_ injured to steal you away from your royal guests. Your assistant should do just fine." Katara fought her body's urging to take a step back and met the Admiral's eyes. She saw the flames within them, something she had yet to see on any man's face she worked with, even the other firebenders. It wasn't the distanced interest that Zuko had shown, this was different, and not pleasant. Somehow, she knew it had nothing to do with his ability to control fire.

"As you wish Admiral," Shiyu sighed. He walked Iroh and Zuko out, explaining the proper care of the newly treated burn for next few days. It was something Katara heard him tell everyone who left, though most of them probably already knew.

"If you'll just sit there," Katara said as she led Zhao to the stone table. "I can take care of your burn." The Admiral followed her orders and watched as she rolled up his pant leg nearly all the way to his hip. The burned silk where the flames made contact was not nearly as bad as she expected it to be. The fabric had browned but not burned through.

"So you watched the match then, my dear," he grinned. Katara paused, realized she had not asked him where he was injured since it was not originally visible and mentally hit herself. This man made her nervous. She nodded in response to his question.

"Your burn isn't that bad, it should heal quickly," she explained as she pressed a cool towel to his thigh just above his knee.

"How was the prince's injury?" asked Zhao, laughing.

"It was worse than this one," Katara answered slowly, "but it will heal."

"Almost finished Katara?" Shiyu called as he trotted back into the room. It seemed he did not want to leave her alone with the Admiral just as much as she did not want to be alone.

"She was just complimenting my firebending," Zhao stated. After a pause, "where did you get this one, doctor?"

"She was gift," Shiyu spoke cautiously. "He took the towel from Katara as she grabbed the ointment. He was about to take that from her as well but Zhao noticed.

"Let her finish," he snapped with narrowed eyes. "She's doing a wonderful job." Katara noticed Shiyu looked as if he wanted to say something, but he held his tongue. She wondered why. Though she knew nothing of rank, she had assumed that Shiyu was well respected and had a decent status here in the capital. Nothing had ever proven her wrong until now. The political hierarchy was next to nothing in her own village; here it was too complicated to even try to keep up with. Dipping her fingers in the cool salve, she applied it to the burn with smooth, delicate strokes. Even without her bending, the ointment would help to heal burned skin. It just had more of a chance at scaring and healed more slowly. Zhao watched her, his interest growing by the moment. Katara felt his eyes watching her, just as she did when the young prince had. The only difference was she knew the feeling that filled her now, and she did not like it.

"Where is she from?" Zhao asked. Katara bit her lip. Not only did the Admiral not seem to understand that he would not get healed any faster by talking, but he spoke as if she was not even there. It was a different feeling, one that Katara was not so sure that she liked. She had been spoiled obviously, living with Mr. Zu at first and then Shiyu; both men had treated her fairly, from what she could remember at least. She was already sick of Zhao speaking over her. She grew bold, pusing aside her nerves.

"I'm from the Southern Water Tribe," she explained, looking up at him while setting down the bowl with a little too much force. She had never needed to hold her tongue before, especially not when she was upset, which happened very little. The Admiral grinned even while his eyes rose in surprise; he did not expect to find fire in a prisoner-servant. Shiyu had hesitated in answering the question; they had never talked about where she was from or her past in general. He didn't want to answer and then be wrong.

"Have you been here long, Katara?" Zhao asked, meeting her eyes. The way, her name rolled off the man's tongue sent a chill down her spine. His words were controlled. She was playing with fire; that much she knew.

"Ten years now," she answered. She finished tying on the bandage and unrolled the pant leg so it covered his leg once more.

"Now, to heal correctly-" Shiyu began, but Zhao tuned the old man out as he was practically dragged out the door. Katara looked up, noticing that Zhao had been watching her instead. She put everything away and Shiyu came back inside after a few minutes.

"Good work Katara," he stated. "You did well today." She nodded, smiling with his praise. "Though, we might not be able to keep you such a secret anymore, now that Zhao knows."

"You were keeping me a secret?" Katara asked. She was not angry, just confused. So many people knew she was here. Shiyu nodded.

"Only from the ones who would be most interested in taking a young woman off my hands on the way out," Shiyu explained. Katara froze in place when she realized who he was referring to. "I said no of course. But that man will need a lot more than a 'no' to get him to leave you alone." Katara was silent. She did not like the way the Admiral watched her. It was like he had a hunger in his gaze, and she wasn't quite sure she liked the sound of leaving Shiyu. She needed a change of subject.

"The prince who fought today," she began.

"Prince Zuko?" asked Shiyu, clarifying for her.

"Yes," she nodded.

"You might want to keep their names straight. There are four princes at the moment," Shiyu explained. "Prince Zuko is the youngest of them."

"Four?" asked Katara. "He has three older brothers?"

"No," Shiyu said. "Firelord Azulon had two sons and hasn't passed on the throne yet, so both of them are still given the title prince, along with their own sons."

"Oh," Katara nodded. She moved on with her original question. "How did prince Zuko get the scar on his face?"

"It was in the previous Agni Kai, six years ago," Shiyu explained with a sigh and a dropped gaze, "he took a fire blast to the face and I did the best I could. I wasn't as talented as you are now with burns and my medicated ointment was not as good either. Speaking of which, I didn't add anti-inflammatory herbs to the mix-"

"I did," Katara bowed her head to hide her lie. "I'm sorry; I thought it would be a good idea since we were dealing with burns today."

"It was an excellent idea Katara," the doctor laughed. "No need to be sorry; you probably saved the young prince from another scar." He patted her on the back and started to walk up the steps to his room.

"Shiyu," Katara asked, recalling something else. "Why was the prince with his uncle today? Why wasn't his father the one-?"

"Prince Ozai, his father, was the one prince Zuko fought his first Agni Kai against. His father was the one who gave him the scar he wears and publically declared he wanted nothing more to do with his son's firebending instruction. Iroh took over in his stead." Silence followed as Katara absorbed this information. She almost could not believe that any father would not be proud of his child's bending. From what she had witnessed, the prince seemed pretty good at firebending. She wondered why his father had done what he did to him. She had no answers for her question and moved on to the next one for Shiyu.

"Do you know Prince Iroh well?" she questioned, "you speak of him so familiarly."

"I meet him many years ago when I was training in medicine at the academy I attended. I was selected to accompany him on a journey to slay a dragon as his medic. I didn't see any dragons though, since he left his guards and me at the base of the mountain. It was something about how he had to do this on his own. He didn't need my medical knowledge, which was probably a good thing since I was still mostly untrained, but we found we had much in common on the journey there and back. But now, with this war still being fought and him leading the advances, I haven't seen him much." She nodded and let Shiyu retreat upstairs to his bedroom. Katara collapsed on her cot, running all the new information she had learned over in her mind. She was silently glad the day was over.

...

Two days later, Katara awoke from a nap to voices speaking in the front room. Curious as to what was going on, she stood and walked towards the conversation. Before she entered the room, she recognized the voice and stood stone still.

"I'm not selling her," she heard Shiyu explain.

"I'll give you more than then you'll know what to do with," Zhao growled.

"Admiral," Shiyu stated. "I'm not selling her. There is nothing that you can give me that I want enough to give her up. Now, if you would please leave my office."

"I _will_ find a way to have her," Admiral Zhao explained. Katara heard the door close and stepped into sight. Shiyu jumped.

"Oh Katara," he breathed. "I didn't know you were up. Will you start some tea?"

"Any particular kind?" she asked. She set the old teapot that they typically used for boiling water for medical instruments on the burner and lit the coals with a pair of spark rocks.

"Jasmine," Shiyu sighed as he sat down at the short table in the front room. Katara set up the tea once the water came to a boil and brought out the never-used set of teacups. There was a knock at the door and Shiyu waved Katara away from answering it. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Shiyu would never ask for tea if there was no reason; Shiyu hated tea. He had been expecting someone. Someone who obviously loved the drink.

"Come in," the doctor called. As Katara turned and set down the teapot, she recognized who it was. The old man who had accompanied Prince Zuko walked in and greeted Shiyu. She immediately picked up the teapot. Originally, she was going to leave it out for Shiyu and his guest to serve themselves. But it just hit her that Prince Zuko's uncle was also royalty, _as Shiyu had explained before_, and thus probably was not used to pouring his own tea. The doctor bowed and they both sat, waiting for Katara to put the kettle on the table.

Katara knelt with the teapot in her hands, and she poured out the cups of tea for Shiyu and Iroh just as she'd been taught to do when she and Bai played tea party after she had practiced the ceremony with her tutor. Holding the first cup with her right hand and the pot in her left, Katara moved around the table, serving each man on his left side. Iroh's cup was poured first since he was the guest and then Shiyu's after his.

The doctor struggled to contain his amazement that she knew how to properly serve. Iroh's attention was divided between Shiyu's shocked expression and Katara's skilled movements and proper hand placement. Shiyu hated tea, so she had never needed to make any for him. She made it for herself at night, but that hardly required any ceremony. It wasn't too much to remember, though Bai's teacher had spoken of using sliced lemons or honey in the tea as well, something he had stressed needed to be on the table when tea was presented and was not very common in the capital city.

"Thank you," Iroh nodded as he accepted his tea. Shiyu could only stare as he took the cup into his hands.

"Where did you learn to serve tea?" Iroh asked before he took a sip. "It obviously wasn't from Shiyu." He chuckled and eyed the other man.

"My old master had a tutor for his daughter," Katara explained. "I learned through her." Iroh nodded his head and took a sip. He settled deeper into the cushion he sat on and Katara took her leave. Once she vanished from the main room, the two men began talking. If she had not heard her name, Katara would have given the men their privacy.

"Admiral Zhao asked after Katara again, just before you showed up today," Shiyu explained. "I'm worried he'll do something rash to get me to sell her. He's found me multiple times to ask about it."

"Are you planning on giving in to Zhao?" Iroh asked. "If you are, I beg you to reconsider. Besides, I can double his price. Any young woman who can serve tea is worth it."

"I'm not planning on giving her up," Shiyu explained. "She's too useful to me here."

"Understandable," Iroh nodded, he grinned then, "but if you ever end u-"

"Iroh," Shiyu frowned. The two men laughed and Iroh poured himself another cup of tea.

"Have you found an apprentice yet?" Iroh changed the subject. Stepping away from the door and settling herself on her cot with a book from Shiyu's library she tried not to eavesdrop.

"Not yet," he answered, "I've met with several young men over the last month, but even with the manuals I'm leaving, none of them seem qualified enough. They would need to spend at least a year learning under me, and I'm not sure that would even begin to cover things."

"You just need to pick one Shiyu," Iroh spoke. "Lu Ten thinks you'll work yourself to death soon, even with the help you have. Though, he's said the same thing about me!"

"I'll look into it further," Shiyu agreed. He took the smallest sip of tea he could and moved on in the conversation.

"Speaking of working yourself to death, how is Firelord Azulon faring these days?" Shiyu asked with his voice lowered. "With the way the war is dragging on."

"It's not a secret my father is getting older," Iroh noted. "That was why he called Lu Ten and I back from the front and our siege on Ba Sing Se a few years back. He was sick and took his time recovering. Everything is ready for the crown to pass."

"And you'll finish the war and be done with this mess, correct?" Shiyu asked. Iroh didn't say anything in response. Katara finally dug deeper into her book and tuned them out completely.

...

The next two months passed in a flurry of activity. Katara treated her first female patient, one of the women warriors who fought with fans. Her wounds were from the single sabertooth mooselion The Arena still held, deep gashes had been cut into her chest and back. Katara was happy to be there to assist her since she seemed highly distrustful of Shiyu when he offered to stitch up her biggest gash that ran across her right breast and down under the left one. Eventually Katara convinced her it would be better to let him do it, and she left without the fear of bleeding out into a bandage if she moved too much.

Katara worked her healing into more and more patients as she become skilled with her secretive process. News of the magic ointment spread through the prisoners. Katara realized she may have been doing too well of a job at that point when they asked for it when they suffered from ailments that had nothing to do with burns.

But new prisoners and healing medicines was the last thing on her mind when the gifts for Shiyu began arriving. At first, the boxes of medical supplies and new robes were appreciated. The Fire Nation's entertainment budget did not allocate them much, especially for two of them. When the gifts became too outrageous though, Shiyu sent the gifter a message; it read something to the effect of 'the gifts need to stop. I've found a buyer who can match and beat any price.' Shiyu hoped that this would end Zhao's obsession with Katara. He didn't know he could be more wrong.

* * *

Yay! Zuko makes his debut. Everyone happy? I wonder what will happen from here ;) The fight is a re-imagining of their battle in the first season. Since these two characters clash so well. And I made up the tea etiquette, just in case anyone is wondering...

Also, I'm debating bumping the story's rating for the coming chapters. Not sure when, but just a warning that it will probably happen with the events that I'm planning. Hope no one has any issues reguarding it.

The chapter title is from the song 'This boy's fire' by Jennifer Lopez and Santana

Look forward to the next chapter!


	8. When Everything was Falling Apart

**Chapter 8 – When Everything was Falling Apart**

"Somehow, in the back of my mind I knew the water was there, waiting for me to call to it. It seemed eager to respond when I finally did."

* * *

The night was warm, so the windows had been left open to keep the building cool. Katara snuggled into her bed, the single sheet draped over her body as she slept. She was there alone; Shiyu had left hours ago. He did not usually tell her where he was going, just that he was going out and when he would be back. It was not that late, but Katara decided to turn in early for the night. There was no need to wait up for him. She had blown out the candles in the library not long ago.

It had been six months since the Agni Kai and two months since Shiyu had stopped receiving gifts to convince him to give up Katara. It seemed it was too good to be true that Admiral Zhao had up and forgotten about the whole incident.

With no sign of anyone awake, the thief took no time invading the building.

He entered through the window above Katara's bed and immediately spotted her. The man jumped inside the room and hesitated. He had no qualms about his mission; he was being paid a handsome fee. Looking down at the girl, he did not understand why his employer was willing to risk the repercussions of stealing her away from her master if he was caught with her. She was exotic and had a small figure, he'd admit that, but he figured the client wanted more than just physical looks. The prisoners that the Fire Nation captured, once they were sold to its own citizens, were the same as physical goods in the matter of the law. The price for stealing them was a hefty fine with a chance of time in prison.

Outside, the two guards which patrolled The Arena's perimeter passed by. The part of the market that this window faced was pretty empty, so he would need to be quick to pass the sentries unseen. Though, there never had been a break of prisoners from The Arena, so he doubted the guards would even know what to do if they encountered someone who needed to be stopped. He would not try his luck that night. Once they were out of sight, the thief began his task. In a swift movement, he scooped Katara up, wrapping the sheet she slept on top of around her as tight as he could manage to keep her from flailing. She woke up instantly, struggling against his hold in a panic. The man swung her over his brawny shoulder and struggled to leave through the window through which he entered. He got through, but not before Katara managed to accidentally kick at the curtain rod, sending it to the floor along with the sheer curtains and knocking a set of candles from the windowsill. The man had no time to fix the evidence of the break in, nor did he care.

Inside the sheet, Katara tried her best to thrash free from her captor's hold. She was wrapped like a baby in the blanket, which made her struggle difficult. She could not free her arms and her face was covered so she could not see where she was being taken or who she was up against. Her heartbeat raced and she screamed for help. Before she could get two words out a hand was clasped over the blanket over her mouth. Bouncing hard against his shoulder, Katara continued to struggle as the man who carried her ran through the dark streets.

She knew not where he was taking her or why she had been stolen. The man kept running, his foot falls echoing on the stone streets. Every now and then a lantern allowed Katara to see through her blanket, but just as quickly as it would appear her view went dark again. Seeing the city did not help though, she had not ventured too far away from the arena recently with Shiyu, and she only knew the layout during the daytime. The shops they frequented were fairly close and in one single direction. If she escaped her captor, she would be lost. The man slowed to a stop, climbed up three steps, and banged on what sounded like a wooden door. She tried again to get out of his grip, but he just held on tighter. The door opened.

"Hurry, take her inside," a raspy woman's voice croaked. Katara was thrown down against the wall and the door was shut. She fought against her blanket and found the end, freeing her head. She managed to unwind the blanket from her arms and looked up at the people around her. Above her stood two men and a woman in her late sixties who dressed like she thought she was thirty and half her size. Katara assumed one of the men was the one who had kidnapped her. The room she was in was decently spacious, though they had choosen to put her in a corner and stand around her, blocking much of the view. There were no windows in the room that she could see, just a long low table with plenty of very plush cushions set around it.

"What do you want?" asked Katara. She untangled her feet from the sheet and pressed herself up against the wall. The shift she wore to bed was decently threadbare, leaving her feeling exposed under their gazes. If she was wearing her bindings under the fabric, she would not have cared as much. At least she had on a pair of pants, though they hardly peeked out from under the oversized shirt they had been mistakenly cut so short . The woman ignored her and spoke to the men.

"I wish I had discovered this one first," she scowled. "The customers would go crazy over her."

"You can still tell him no," the man who Katara assumed was not the kidnapper said. He had yet to take his eyes off her body. Katara pulled the sheet up to her neck, putting another layer between them. She pulled her knees closer to herself as well. He wore the same look Zhao had when he examined her as she fixed his burn.

"I got paid up front, she's off limits," the woman hissed.

"Please," Katara asked when she heard silence approaching. "Why am I here?"

"Take her upstairs," the old woman ordered, ignoring her. "I don't want anyone upstairs seeing her and asking questions." The two men grabbed Katara's arms and lifted her, kicking and screaming, up to the second floor. Her screams were cut short when a hand was pressed to her mouth. The steps squeaked under their combined weight. The building was old, though fairly large. If she had been thinking straight, she might have wondered what the building was used for. They passed two doors on the left and paused. Katara was tossed into the next room and the door was locked from the outside. Recovering from being thrown to the ground, she jumped to her feet and tried the doorknob.

"Let me out!" she shouted. "Tell me why you took me here!" She pounded on the door with all her might. Hearing the door unlatch, she jumped back when one of the guards filled the threshold.

"Keep it down girl," he growled. "Or I'll have to make you stay quiet myself." Katara backed away from him and tumbled onto the single large bed in the room with a surprised yelp. She attempted to glare at the man until the other one appeared.

"She wants her secured," the new man said. He handed a set of what looked like red silk scarves to his partner. The two of them overpowered Katara easily, pinning her to the bed, and tied her hands behind her back as she screamed and called out for help.

"Why did you grab ribbons?" grunted one of the men, Katara did not care to keep them straight anymore. He received a kick to the shin before he could secure her feet. "Didn't we have any real rope?"

"The girls complained about rope burn," the other man replied. He tied the last ribbon around Katara's mouth in a makeshift gag to keep her quiet. "So the madam got these ribbons instead. She said something about it being more stimulating for the girls." Katara squirmed on the bed, pulling at her restraints once they were complete, trying to get free. The men watched her for a moment, as if to see if she could wiggle herself out of their handiwork.

"I wonder how he'll feel when he learns he won't be in his usual room?" one man stated when they both turned to leave.

"It shouldn't matter," the other replied. "This setup should make him feel like the conquering hero he thinks he is." She watched the two men leave the room before her vision blurred with terrified tears. She heard the lock click. Their conversation made no sense to her, so she did not bother trying to decipher it.

It took several minutes and many deep breathes until she had calmed herself enough to no longer be in such an alarmed state. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that crying and panicking would get her nowhere; though, calming down was harder than her mind made it seem. She heard a woman's voice talking as she passed the room and a man's voice answer her. Katara knew it wasn't the old crone or one of the men she had encountered earlier, these voices sounded too different. The floor boards outside groaned as the voices were cut off with the sound of a door shutting. The waterbender eased herself onto her side and tucked her legs behind her to try and ease the knots free even as her hands were bound. As she worked, Katara surveyed the room she was in.

The room was lit by candlelight in several locations, illuminating the decor. It should have made her think of being back in the Water Tribes, but everything was off from what she remembered. There were no windows, the only way in was the door she had been pushed through. The bed was covered in a thick pelt from a polarbear dog, but the pillows were brown colored Fire Nation silk. A pair of caribou camel antlers hung over the bed. The dual night tables, which held perfectly molded half burned candles, were made of wicker but painted to look like ice. Chipping paint ruined the illusion. A single item which appeared to be a chest of drawers with only a single drawer at the top sat near the door. It was obviously made of wood and painted ash grey, though she has no idea what it was for. Even the paint on the walls added to the facade, since it was designed to look like the inside of an igloo hut with bone struts to support it.

The waterbender was not sure if she wanted to cry or laugh at the terrible decorations which sought to imitate her old home. She did have a chance to wonder why they were here in the first place as she worked the ribbons free from her feet. Somewhere down the hall she heard quick rhythmic banging, like a bed hitting a wall. It was gone as soon as it began. She wondered if other people were here, trapped as she was. She sighed and hit her foot on the foot-board of the bed, another thing she would have never found in the Southern Water Tribe. She cried out in pain, cursing herself for not paying attention.

The moment the pain became bearable, which took longer than she felt was necessary, she slid her feet off the bed she heard a knock on the door. She wondered how long she had been trapped here already. The knots had been difficult to pull lose and her fingers truly hurt from trying to pry the silky ribbons free from each other. It could very well have been an hour, but she was not completely sure.

Katara called out to the person on the other side, but her words were mumbled. If whoever it was could just open the door and help her, she'd be happy. There was a pause, in it she heard another woman call out in a room down the hall. Though she sounded more excited, for lack of a better word, then fearful to Katara. Forgetting the other sounds in the building, Katara hurried to the door and gave it a shove with her shoulder, still trying to tell the person on the other side that she needed help. The knock was repeated, though Katara noticed it was faster this time. She turned her back to the door and tried to turn the knob with her hands. The lock caught, keeping the door from opening. She growled in frustration and stepped back.

The person must have grabbed the knob from the other end, because Katara watched it turn, again to no avail. She was about to try her luck at kicking it when she heard the sound of a sword being pulled from its sheath. Katara backed up, not sure what to expect. The thought of the person outside having a weapon pulled her back to reality and she wondered if it was a such a good idea that they were trying to get in while she was still mostly tied up. Too late now. The sword clanged on the other side of the door and the door knob on her side was pushed through. It tumbled onto the floor and the door was shoved open very slightly to allow for room to peer inside. Katara could not see who it was and froze.

The door was thrown open then, and shut just as quickly as the man hurried inside. Katara tried to speak, but the ribbon in her mouth got in the way. The Blue Spirit put a finger to his masked lips and Katara stopped struggling. He stared at her for the longest time before motioning for her to turn around. She did as he bid and he untied the knots on the ribbons still binding her wrists and mouth with ease. Once she was free, he took her hand and pulled her to the door.

The coast seemed to be clear, since he guided her down the hallway, where she heard more groans, furniture moving, and low conversations. She would have asked him if the other people here needed help, but he seemed to be wholly focused on getting her away. They paused, Katara following him like a shadow, as they both sneaked down the stairs in single file. The steps did not make a sound as either of them carefully crossed their planks. In a nearby room Katara heard the voice of the old woman and one of the men. She felt fear threaten to lace her veins with ice. The Blue Spirit noticed her hesitation and pulled at her wrist to keep her moving.

They crept behind the half wall dividing them from the old woman and her guard and out an open back window, in what looked like a storage room, to the street. Voices forced them into the shadows the moment they hit the ground. Together, they watched two men walk closer until they moved under the candle light illuminating the building's entrance. Katara pressed deeper into the shadows as they passed, recognizing one of the men. The Admiral laughed without a care in the world as the noblemen and himself walked up the steps and into the building Katara had just been rescued from.

"-my new toy has been acquired," Zhao grinned, finishing out his statement. "Maybe I'll even give you a try when I'm through." The Blue Spirit clenched his fists and glanced backward at the girl behind him. He had heard enough about the topic for the past few weeks to know the Admiral was interesting into getting his hands on the Water Tribe girl and simply put two and two together now. He was all for spending nights with the women who worked and lived at the 'Spitfire', but they were all consenting individuals, to some degree, and were well compensated for their work. This young girl, even with her social standing being where it was, did not deserve to be a toy. He had seen it happen before, and sadly, if she had any other master then Shiyu, it would probably be her reality already.

The Blue Spirit led Katara down a few alleyways and then paused just before they walked under a lit torch near the entrance of a large building which she did not recognize. The street ahead looked safe enough, but he put his hand in front of her to signal for her to wait. He took a step, turned back to make sure she did not follow and then darted around the corner, through the firelight, and into the darkness.

Katara watched him go and noticed that he was not wearing the outfit she always saw him fight in. The clothing was still black, but it fell looser around him and lacked the bindings around his wrists and ankles to keep the fabric from getting caught in a fight. He did carry the dual swords; it made her wonder why he would need them on an ordinary night. He was only gone for maybe half a minute when she heard movement behind her.

"I saw something over there," called a voice. Katara saw two guards close in on her corner and stood as still as possible. If she moved, the Blue Spirit might not find her and then she'd be lost in this city with no hope of finding where she where she needed to be. She had no idea what part of the city they were in; none of the buildings were familiar here. She hoped they would not find her.

Her luck ran short as the firelight from the guard's hand caught her and she was spotted. The guards advanced slowly, corning her.

"What do we have here?" one of them asked.

"Let me pass," she stuttered. "I'm on my way home."

"What are you doing out so late, alone?" asked the other man. He moved closer still, holding the flame to get a better look. He whistled.

"I'm heading back," Katara pressed. She looked around, desperate for the Blue Spirit to return and help her. One of the guards swayed on his feet as he stepped on a uneven cobblestone and Katara took her chance. She attempted to dart around him and get away and hide. She had not thought that the man would be so quick to recover his balance though. He looped an arm around her waist and caught her, swinging her back to the wall and pinning her there by jerking her arm behind her back. His shoulder armor was cool to the touch, it sent shivers down Katara's spine as it touched her skin.

"Now that was rude," the guard smiled. "Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I have to get return home. I was just talking a walk-"

"Wearing this?" The guard who held her to the wall asked. He rubbed the cloth of her nightgown between his fingers. "She's not a street rat, that's for sure. Probably some nobleman's whore." The word had no effect on Katara, she had never heard it before, nor did she know its meaning. She kicked out at the man. She was sick of being restrained.

"Don't worry little one, we'll take you home to your master," the guard smiled. He shifted her wrists to one of his single large hands and then slowly lifted the edge of her shift to expose the loose shorts she wore underneath. Katara tried to twist away.

"Let me go," Katara called out. "I haven't done anything. Stop it!" The guard restraining her moved closer to her until he had pressed his body up against her right side. He trapped her legs between the wall and his own. The other solider moved for his belt and reached for Katara's shorts. The ribbon holding them tight against her hips came free with a single pull, though the covering only loosened, it did not fall away. When his rough hand made contact with her skin and slid under the loosening waistband, Katara's heart raced and she panicked.

"Stop!" she ordered, squirming away from the man as best she could. "Let Me Go!" She didn't get far before the solider had inched his fingers too close for comfort. Eyes closed, Katara ripped her hands free from the ironclad grip of the soldier.

In a single second, the two men lay stunned and Katara was free. She blinked her eyes open, expecting to see the Blue Spirit standing before her. What she saw instead shocked her. A chunk of ice, frozen from a puddle in the street, lay inches from the man who had been restraining her. It was broken into three pieces from the impact. He moaned and moved to hold his head where a gash bleed into this eyes. The other man, the one who had touched her, lay dead. She could tell even without feeling for his breath or checking for the telltale thumping of blood in any of the major veins like Shiyu had taught her. His back was covered with ice pellets formed into tiny two inch long spikes. They were driven deep into his neck and spinal column.

She realized it had to have been her who had done this. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and her breath came in short gasps. Katara was terrified yet amazed at her power when her emotions got the better of her. The living man moaned again in agony and Katara looked down at what she had done once more. She stepped back and bolted when she saw the blood pooling on the ground, melting away the icy bullets. It flowed down the stones and mixed with the puddle she had drawn her water from. With her power, she had just killed a man.

Katara flew around the corner, fear filling her eyes, and crashed into a hard body. She struggled against it, not even seeing who it was. When he released one of her forearms and put a gloved finger to her lips, she calmed instantly, finally seeing through her panic. The Blue Spirit cocked his head to the side in confusion, she assumed because she had not waited. It would have been easier if he talked and told her what he was thinking and planning, but she realized if he had not spoken by now that he would not. The young waterbender glanced back to the alley and then looked up to him. She stared at the blue demon mask, trying to see into the eyes of the man behind it to give her plea.

"Please," she shivered, "take me home." He gave her arm a gentle squeeze and nodded. They jogged through the night street, avoiding any and all further patrols without issue. He led her to a door surrounded by crates of fabric bolts and barrels with rainwater once they came to the side of The Arena building. The door was already open slightly and the Blue Spirit pushed her inside. She shut the door behind her.

"Who's there?" called Shiyu's voice. Katara smiled in spite of all that had happened tonight when the doctor appeared at the top of the steps. She flew up the steps to him and she found herself down in the sitting room within seconds. Before she came into sight of the main room though, a shout called out.

"Is that her?" Katara recognized the voice as the old man who liked tea, Prince Zuko's uncle.

"She's back," Shiyu announced, amazed. Inside, the warmth of the room sent the events of the night rushing back to her in a flash. Weak in the knees suddenly, Katara clung to Shiyu for balance. He did not seem to mind and gently guided her to a cushion at the table. Even as she sat on the floor, he kept a hand on her back.

"Katara," he asked slowly. Iroh handed her a cup of tea, jasmine again, which she accepted gratefully and sipped at. She did not have time to wonder why Shiyu was up and why Prince Iroh was present. She assumed he was the one Shiyu had gone out to visit earlier that night and they had both returned here to relax with tea, only to find her missing.

"What happened?" he asked. Katara bowed her head, thinking of the soldier whom she had killed with her waterbending. No matter what, she could not tell them about that, but it occurred to her that the men were not referring to that most recent part of her night as she heard Shiyu's ramblings. She realized Shiyu had continued talking while she was thinking.

"-and the library looked like someone had broken into. Are you ok?" he asked. She sighed in reflief; they wanted to know about the kidnapping in general. They knew nothing of the guards in the alley.

"Shiyu," Iroh interjected. "Let the girl catch her breath." Katara shook her head and spoke.

"A man broke into the library through the window, and I was taken to a building," Katara answered, not wanted to leave Shiyu's question unanswered. "The man grabbed me while I was sleeping, but I remember kicking at him to try and get free. I might have knocked a few things in the struggle." She continued, "the building we went to, I think the sign said 'Spitfire', but I could be wrong. I didn't really have time to read it before we ran back here." Shiyu cringed when he heard the name of the building and Iroh shook his head. Katara noticed both men's reactions.

"What?" she asked.

"The Spitfire is a well known brothel," Iroh stated. Katara looked at him with her naive blue eyes, begging him to explain further why that should mean anything to her.

"What's a brothel?" asked Katara, when no one said anything.

"Shiyu," Iroh frowned. "Did you never let her out of this room? What did you tell her if she asked about certain buildings in town?"

"It was on a need to know basis," he answered quickly, almost blushing in the candle light. Katara had to admit that he looked rather silly flushed red like a tomato. "And all she needed to know was medical information and techniques. I can assure you I never thought I'd need to discuss anything about brothels with her. I never took her when I delivered remedies or looked after the sickly girls there, so she had no questions to ask. Besides, I doubt from her now calm state of mind that she was taken advantage of." Iroh nodded. Katara kept her questions to herself and looked down at her left knee in thought. She wondered why Shiyu acted so frazzled about the topic.

"It does beg the question," Iroh added. "Who would do this? It's against the law to steal, and carries a serious penalty."

"No one has shown any interest in her out of the ordinary when we go out to the market," offered Shiyu. "Unless you think it could be Zhao. Though, his gifts to convince me to give her up did stop coming a while back. Maybe he resorted to something more drastic-"

"Why would she end up at the Spitfire then?" Iroh asked. Katara jumped in while the two men pondered aloud.

"We saw him. The Admiral walked into the building just as I was rescued. The Blue Spirit got me out just in time to miss crossing paths," Katara added. "It couldn't have been him that took me, it was a man who I think worked there. The admiral was just getting there and was talking with another man about a delivery from him that had just arrived-"

"Iroh," Shiyu stated. "That's proof enough. He didn't kidnap her, but he arranged for it. That's proof he did it." He extended his hand towards Katara.

"Her word is useless Shiyu," Iroh sighed.

"Then the Blue Spirit's," Shiyu said. "He no doubt heard it as well."

"But the Blue Spirit is just the man's arena name. No one knows who that really is," Iroh countered.

"No one?" the doctor asked like he already knew the answer. The two men held each other's gaze in a battle of wills. The doctor felt that the Blue Spirit and Iroh were somehow connected, even just in passing. It had to be a coincidence that once Iroh knew about Katara's disappearance that she had been rescued by the masked man and brought safely home. The two men stared across the table until Shiyu finally yielded. Though, it could have just been a coincidence. After all, he had been given the girl by the man at that very same brothel six years previous. He could have just been a regular patron and been there at the right time to notice something fishy. Shiyu shook his head.

"So now what?" he sighed. "What's to keep Zhao from going after her again?" There was a moment of silence and Katara set down her tea.

"I'll keep an eye on her," Iroh offered. "I'll take her back to the palace as my new servant."

"Iroh," Shiyu sighed, "I'm not-"

"I'll give you her weight in gold," Iroh stated seriously. He added more gently, "she'll be safe from Zhao in the palace as long as you don't let it slip who has her." Shiyu looked at his hands and nodded. Iroh seemed satisfied and got to his feet.

"Alright then," he smiled, turning to Katara. "The sooner we get you inside the palace, the safer you'll be from Admiral Zhao, or whoever it was who wanted you kidnapped." The girl nodded and paused when Iroh held open the door for her. "I'll send the gold over in the morning." Iroh called back to Shiyu as he moved out the door as well. The waterbender moved to follow after the eldest prince of the Fire Nation and looked once more at her home for the last six years. They had been excellent an chapter of her life. Taking a step back in a last minute thought, Katara threw her arms around the doctor. He stiffened in surprise.

"Thank you," she smiled, "for everything. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't taken me in."

"Be good Katara," was the shocked response Shiyu gave her, loosening up to pat her on the back. "Don't forget what you've learned here."

"I won't," she promised. The two parted, and the door closed between them.

* * *

I guess I've decided that Fire Nation soldiers have no morals... and I already miss Shiyu.

How's the story so far? Has my foreshadowing been any good? Anyone see where anything is going? Or are you all content to simply hang on for the ride? I'd love to know anything you've caught that doesn't seem to make sense or that you've found thought provoking.

The chapter title comes from the lyrics of the song "You found Me" by The Fray.

(btw, Is the song lyric as a chapter title thing weird? Its super hard/fun picking out the chapter titles... Have I broadened anyone's music interests yet? probably not...)

Your Reviews make me smile :D


	9. Never Knew I Could Hurt this Bad

**Chapter 9 - Never Knew I Could Hurt this Bad **

"I hoped my prayer found him as he fell. It was the least I could do, since I was the guilty one after all, not him. "

* * *

The palace was much more magnificent on the inside then the outside. Iroh led her down the gilded hallways with plush red carpets which took her by surprise after seeing the building only as a looming fortress. They moved through the dark hallways and ran into no guards, which Katara thought was slightly strange. She was glad she was being led; they took too many turns though doors Katara would have trouble remembering in the light and up a flight of steps or two. Finally Iroh stopped. He opened a single un-elaborate door and motioned for Katara to move inside. Four beds, just large enough for a single person each, filled the room, each with a chest of drawers at their feet.

"You can stay here," Iroh explained. "I'll be by in the morning." Katara nodded and sat down on the first bed. It was pressed up against the wall like she was used to back at Shiyu's. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked around. The room was small, but bigger than her first home in the nursery's nanny room. There was no door except the one she entered through, so she assumed there must be a separate bathroom for the room. She wondered if other people lived in here with her, but she decided that they should have been back and in bed by now if they did. Katara laid back, pulled the covers over her head, and struggled to fall asleep. She woke feeling less than rested the next morning. She pulled open the curtains and studied the view from what she figured was the second floor. Shortly after, the door was opened and she had company.

"Good morning." Iroh stated. He carried a tray with a steaming teapot and two cups. Placing them on the chest beside the bed by the window, he poured two cups and handed one to Katara as he sat on the edge of her bed. Katara turned from the window and faced him, sitting on the opposite bed and sipping her tea. It was spiced orange. Not one of her favorites, but it gave her new energy after a fitful night. They enjoyed the tea in silence until Iroh set his cup down.

"I'm sorry if last night was sudden, you coming here with no warning," he began.

"No, it's fine," Katara answered, looking down at her drink. She took another sip of the tea.

"You must trust me that you are safer here. Admiral Zhao, or whoever it was, has no idea you are here. Even his men can't take you without someone finding out."

"You won't keep me locked in this room all the time will you?" Katara asked, sounding fearful. "I understand that I'm safer, but-" she paused; worried she'd overstepped her bounds. She knew nothing of how this man treated his servants. She braved the last bit of her statement when she received no harsh words, "I felt useful to Shiyu, and I loved being able to do something. Now, I don't have that." Iroh closed his eyes and nodded.

"I see," he said. "I'm sure I could think of something." Katara smiled.

"Really?"

"Yes, but not now. In a few days after the turmoil has died down in the city."

"What happened?" Katara asked.

"A night patrolman was found dead in an alley on the east side of the city. His partner suffered a head injury, but lived. He said he was attacked by a waterbender. He can't remember anything else though. The city patrols are out in full force verifying everyone's papers, searching for the rogue bender.

"What will happen if they find the bender?" asked Katara.

"They will be executed at The Arena," Iroh explained. Katara stared in horror which Iroh mistook for her worrying about being attacked. "But worry not, you're perfectly safe here." Katara was silent. Iroh stood and rearranged the tea set to leave for her. As he turned to leave the room, Katara called to him.

"I have a question," she asked, somewhat timidly. "It's not very important." The eldest prince nodded and she continued. "What is this room for? Will there be other people who will be in here with me?"

"This is one of the rooms where my servants used to live," Iroh explained. "No one lives here anymore, so it's all yours."

"You don't have any servants?" Katara asked. She figured if a normal nobleman like Mr. Zu had a handful of people to answer his every beck and call, then a prince should have many.

"Not anymore," Iroh began. He started to say something else but the door swung open.

"I thought I heard your voice in here Dad," the voice stated before its owner entered. The young man saw Katara and paused. She could have sworn he gave her a look of recognition, but she had never seen him before in her life.

"Come in and shut the door Lu Ten," Iroh stated. He sighed, closed his eyes and shook his head.

"You ended up getting a servant then?" he asked. Anything Katara thought she saw in the boy's gaze had vanished. "I thought you said-"

"I did," Iroh interrupted, "and I meant it. She's not-"

"If she's not a servant, then why is she here?" asked the young man. Katara studied him for a moment as Iroh explained the situation with Zhao. The boy was maybe in his early to mid-twenties. His hair was near black, as Iroh's must have been when he was younger. Though the young man's face was more slender then his father's; it must have come from his mother's side.

"I've taken her on as her protector," Iroh explained.

"So you're going to keep her locked in this room then? Like a bird in a cage?" asked Lu Ten, almost sarcastically. "Some protection, the girl will probably go crazy in here if you try to keep her a secret."

"I was going to-" Iroh began to say.

"It would be better to hide her in plain sight," Lu Ten interrupted, putting a hand to his chin in thought. "No one would ever expect to see her in the palace, even as a servant." He paced as he spoke.

"I was going-" Iroh began.

"You'd be better off having her as your personal taste tester." Lu Ten interupted. Iroh laughed, holding his belly and leaning backwards. "Or maybe you-"

"Lu Ten," Iroh snapped. The boy closed his mouth and looked back to his father as he spoke.

"I'll tell everyone she's my new tea stewardess."

"Your what?" asked Lu Ten. "You made that up!"

"My own son would think that I'd make something like that up?" Iroh asked. He shook his head. Katara drank her tea and watched them argue.

"The late General Hyun had a young man who brought him tea all the time," Iroh explained, "even on the battle front." Lu Ten sighed.

"Well, she would always be under your watch then. And no one would doubt that you actually just wanted that much tea," he stated. Iroh offered his son a cup. He declined and looked at Katara. She was still in her night clothes, since she did not have time to grab the few outfits she wore at the doctor's. The conversation seemed to be over and Lu Ten stood and moved to the door.

"Dad," he stated, as if just remembering. "I wanted to tell you that the town patrol found one of their own dead and another injured last night. The news is sweeping through the capital."

"I already know," Iroh said, sipping at another cup.

"Oh," his son blinked. "I just thought you'd like to know. I'll see you for lunch then." The door shut and Iroh set his empty cup down.

"Forgive my son," he stated. "Lu Ten always has somewhere to be." The old man stood again and smoothed his robes.

"I'll be back shortly with some new clothes for you," Iroh stated. He left the room, but kept it unlocked. Once she knew neither of them was coming back into the room she slid off the bed, leaned back against it, dropped her face into her hands.

Lu Ten's last statement sent last night rushing back to her. The kidnapper, the guard, her water bending, the blood. That man, the one she had not killed had seen her face, he knew who she was. _What if?_ She stopped the thought before it even started. The only positive was that the Blue Spirit had rescued her. Katara truly did want to thank him now. Her life had been saved multiple times thanks to him. She wondered how he knew to always be there when she needed him. Katara sat curled up like that for a long time. Her eyes grew wet, but tears never fell.

There was a knock at the door and a woman opened it. She carried with her a stack of folded red clothing. She was a larger woman, but tall as well. Katara scrambled to her feet.

"The prince sent these for you," she stated, holding out the clothing to show her.

"Thank you," Katara replied. She assumed the woman was referring to Iroh, so she asked, "Did he say anything else?"

"Nothing," the woman said, "he's in a meeting now. I think it's about the rogue waterbender in the city." Katara swallowed the hard lump in her throat and nodded.

"That's so frightening," the woman said, smoothing the top outfit on the pile she had just set down. "To think, one of those barbarians got loose and is living on our streets. I'm sure he won't hesitate to kill again." The look of fear in Katara's blue eyes was noticed by the woman when she looked up, even though they girl said nothing.

"Oh, worry not my dear," she stuttered. "The palace is the safest place. No one has ever gotten through the guards and lived, at least not since I've been here." Katara tried to smile and ended up simply nodding. The woman mentioned something about finishing the laundry and hurried out of the room. She wondered if the woman had noticed that she was of Water Tribe descent when she spoke of them being barbarians. Curious, she turned to the clothing.

Katara lifted the first outfit in the pile of five and held it against her body. It was a long red tunic, the color of wine with a bright red sash. The other outfits included a few dresses with excess fabric on the shoulders and around the collar, similar to what the other servant wore, a set of clothing for bed, and an outfit that included pants. Katara was not sure which one to throw on first and decided to go with the last one. The plain tunic and pants combo was the most similar to her old clothing at the arena. She set the others out on the chest to ask about them.

An hour later, the door opened and Iroh walked into the room. He found Katara laying on her back on the bed, starring up at the ceiling. She perked up when she heard him enter.

"Thank you," Katara smiled, "for the clothing."

"You'll need them all for your new job," Iroh replied. "We'll practice now at lunch."

"Practice what?" asked Katara. She swung her feet off the bed and stood.

"Your role as my tea stewardess," Iroh explained. "You will be charged with making sure I have tea wherever we go. You follow after me, on the left side when we walk, and take your position against the wall nearest my seat when we get to the room after you pour my tea. This is yours." The man passed Katara a small bamboo box with a strap to carry it over her shoulder. She set it down and opened the lid. Inside, a porcelain teapot and two matching cups were nestled, along with small jars of tea leaves. She shut the box and looked up at Iroh.

"Why?" Katara asked. "Why are you doing this? Keeping me under your watch, away from the Admiral?"

"Now is not the time," Iroh stated. "But I will explain it to you eventually." He sighed and led her from the room. As he instructed, Katara followed after him a few paces behind and on the left. She took care not to let the case bang or rattle as she walked. Katara followed the general into a high ceilinged room with a single table set for six. The room was empty, the set of paneled doors out to a courtyard partway open to let in a breeze. Iroh took his seat at the head of the table on one side and motioned for the case to be opened; Katara did so.

"Normally," Iroh explained, "this would have to be burning by the time we arrived, but we're here early. The side pocket has a set of spark rocks for you to light the candle." He pulled out a flattened candle with seven wicks and set up the teapot to sit on a wine frame over it, inside the basket. "Before we go anywhere, you must fill the pot with water. It will be heavy to carry, but I doubt you'll have any issues." With the jug from the table the teapot was filled with water, and Katara added the leaves as per Iroh's instructions. He held the teapot close and breathed out. Steam escaped from the vessel's nose. Katara pulled out a single teacup and poured Iroh a cup just as the door swung opened on the far side of the room.

"This is the signal for more tea," Iroh whispered and made a subtle gesture with his hand under the table. Katara nodded, gathered up the tea set, and bowed just for good measure as the new arrival's footsteps filled the room. She knelt behind the curtain near an opening that ran the length of one wall and looked up. The curtains must have been made for servants to wait on their masters without being seen, as there were many openings throughout the fabric. A woman and two other people walked in. Katara recognized the young man as the prince from the dual.

"I told you father wouldn't be here," the girl frowned as she took her seat at the table.

"Azula," the woman sighed, "your father-"

"Did I miss anything yet?" asked another voice as the door Iroh entered through swung open. Katara recognized it as Lu Ten's. She maneuvered herself so she could see through the gap in the curtains. Lu Ten sat on Iroh's right side, across from the girl. She sat next to who Katara assumed was her mother. Prince Zuko sat across from her and next to the other head seat, the only remaining opening. She saw the two young princes share a conspiratory look before she noticed that Iroh had _already_ finished his first cup of tea and had given her the signal.

With all l the grace she had, Katara rose and moved through the curtains to Iroh's side. The mother had begun talking to Lu Ten about something at that point, but Katara felt both of her children's golden eyes follow her across the room, watching as she poured Iroh another cup of jasmine tea. Even before she finished pouring, the daughter spoke.

"Is there something wrong with the tea already out, Uncle?" she asked, her tone held acid that surprised Katara.

"I prefer my own," Iroh answered. He must have been ignoring the girl's tone, since it was so obvious that there was no way to miss it. "That tea just tastes like hot leaf juice."

"All tea tastes like hot leaf juice Uncle," Zuko scowled as he rolled his eyes. Iroh put a hand to his heart as if he had been wounded. The door opened for the final time just as Katara put the teapot back in the basket and stood. As she bowed, she saw the man who entered the room. She moved quickly behind the curtains before he could get a good look at her.

"Glad you could make it Ozai," Iroh said. "Azula was worried you wouldn't show." The girl shot him a look full of flames.

"I just know how important your meetings are with grandfather," she replied. Katara noticed the girl gave Iroh another look. The princess, it seemed, wanted to make sure her uncle knew that the Fire Lord, her own grandfather, met regularly with her father. The food was brought in by a small army of servants. The scents made Katara's stomach clench. The bread and tea she had been given for breakfast was not nearly enough to sit through this extravagant meal. The family fell silent as they ate. Katara felt tension between the two sides, mostly emitting from Iroh's brother. She was finally called to refill Iroh's cup once more; her presence broke the table's silence.

"Finally gave in Iroh?" Ozai smirked. Katara refused to look away from the cup she filled. The teapot only had a single cup's worth left. She silently begged the man to drink less. But he seemed to know his teapot's limit and set the full cup down without taking even a sip.

"She's just my tea stewardess, Ozai," Iroh explained. He waved Katara away. His brother watched the girl vanish.

"Of course brother," Ozai nodded with just a hint of sarcasm. "When did you acquire her?"

"Recently," Iroh spoke. His lines were well rehearsed, like an actor in his favorite play. "A friend of mine knew the man who had her and he needed coin to pay a debt. I was right to accept his price. I got more than what I paid for; she's quite skilled." Katara wondered why he needed to lie about where she had come from. She would make sure to ask him later.

"Did father tell you about what has been decided in the city uncle?" Azula asked, pushing aside her plate. "Speaking of nobles and money?"

"You can tell Iroh after lunch is over Azula," the woman began to say.

"She's fine Ursa," Iroh replied.

"What was decided then?" Lu Ten asked Ozai. "This is about the rogue waterbender right?"

"Grandfather decided that any citizen who brings in one of their slaves with bending will be paid in gold to hand them over. Double if they can waterbend. He says it's worth the coin to get those excuses for benders off our streets."

"Watch your language young lady," Ursa snapped. Azula closed her mouth, but could not keep the smirk from her face. She glanced at Ozai and did not see the same disdain for the language she used that her mother had shown.

"What will happen when they're all rounded up?" asked Lu Ten, genuinely interested. Katara listened with baited breath.

"The murderer will burn," Ozai answered. He set his utensils down and folded his napkin. "Iroh, I need to speak with you about father." With that, the meal was over. Iroh touched his son on the shoulder and tilted his head towards the curtains where Katara waited. The remainder of the family began to leave the room as the two brothers walked off together.

Before the door closed fully that they exited from, the sounds of clanging dishware against the floor echoed followed by Ozai's voice raised in a angry tirade. Katara noticed the rest of the family turn towards the sound until the door swung closed and cut it off. The woman shook her head and moved in the direction while the children resumed their original paths and left without flinching.

Stunned, a shiver ran down Katara's spine. She wondered what had happened then thought better of it. She gathered Iroh's empty cup, blew out the flames on the candle and followed after Lu Ten when he gestured to her. He led her back to her bedroom where she put down the tea set on the closest bed that wasn't hers.

"Did you need anything else?" Lu Ten asked after a moment of hesitation, his hand on the door ready to leave.

"Is there a way I can get something to eat?" she questioned.

"The kitchen is back down by the room we ate in, down the hall on the left. They should have something for you. The servants washing room is across the hall and down three doors as well." Lu Ten added. "It hasn't been used in a few years, so I hope everything still works like it should."

"Thank you," Katara smiled. Lu Ten returned her grin and left the room. Katara waited a moment and headed out to find the kitchen. Following Lu Ten's instructions, it was easy enough to find. She found bread and red berry jam and a handful of leftovers still out from the family's meal. Before any of the servants who had served the food could return and tell her no, Katara gathered up a small lunch and returned to her room. She ate and when she was finished, leaned back on the bed.

With nothing better to do, the Water Tribe girl curled into a ball and took a nap.

The rest of the day passed and Iroh did not need her. He sent down the same servant as before to bring her a tray for dinner and a book. The writing was simple, but the set of stories were Fire Nation classics. She was intrigued.

...

Katara found herself back at the arena the next day. Instead of being down near the action though, she sat behind Iroh in the royal balcony. Dressed in silk, her tea serving robes were similar to the other servants who watched over the family. As she dressed that morning, she noticed that each of the corners of her collar had golden dragons embroidered onto them. Only after noticing a phoenix and a hawk on all the other servants did she bother to check her own. She guessed the insignia was meant to link the servants with their masters. She knew not if the animals meant anything other than a system of differentiation, but that was the last thing on her mind. Katara shook like a leaf when she heard why the royal family had gathered. The whole city had gathered to watch the waterbending trials.

In the arena, firebending soldiers had gathered a large group of men together. They were all in various states of dress, their clothing signaling where they had been taken from. Some were dressed in silk, like herself, so she assumed their masters had been high nobility or otherwise well-off, but others wore no more than lose fitting ragged shorts, indicating they were laborers. However, Katara knew one thing the men all had in common before it was even announced: they were all waterbenders.

"Loyal citizens of the Fire Nation!" the announcer called. "A grave injustice was done to one of our noble patrolmen two nights previous. Killed without a chance, literary stabbed in the back by a waterbender!" The crowd called out in anger. Katara shivered in her seat. Iroh turned to her for a moment, though he said nothing. _If only they knew it was an accident_, Katara thought as she closed her eyes, _I didn't mean to kill him, only to make him stop, to let me go_. _I didn't understand what he wanted._

The second sentry, his head wrapped in bandages from his lesser injury appeared in the arena, escorted by two soldiers in uniform. Other soldiers kept the men in a single file line. The announcer had begun talking again.

"-witnessed the attack but cannot remember the killer. Hopefully this should jog his memory. All the benders who slipped past The Arena have been collected up and brought back where they belong. The murderer should be here." A tear threatened to fall from Katara's eyes. How right, yet still wrong the speaker was. Yes, the murderer was here in The Arena, but she was not there where she should be to face justice for her crimes. Instead, she was safe in the balcony while one of the innocent men below paid for her.

She drew a shocked breath when the guard pointed out a man not much older than her brother. He was a smaller built man and kept his long hair tied back in two braids as was the custom in her village for young men who didn't tie it up in a warrior's wolf tail. The other men were herded to wherever they kept the benders when they were not fighting and the soldiers moved in on the young man.

It was not enough that he did not do what he was accused of. Katara knew the young man from her own tribe. Sokka had looked up to him; it appeared his ability had manifested late like her own. She wondered how he had gotten away from The Arena for just a second, since she had never seen him in the medical office for injuries or watched him win his freedom.

The crowd roared as he fought in vain against the five firebenders. It was a slow fight, painfully drawn out in Katara's mind. Each burn he suffered, she made herself feel as well. Soon she could hold back her tears no longer. She was grateful when he fell to the ground and took no more breath. It would have been easier just to die. Her tears left hot salty trails down her face. Iroh noticed her distress even as she stood slightly behind him. He motioned for more tea, but put his hand over the cup when she got close enough to pour the liquid.

"What's wrong?" his concern showing. She shook her head, not wanting to answer, and wiped at the tears staining her face.

"What's wrong?" he repeated.

"That man," Katara spoke through controlled sobs, trying not to attract attention. Luckily, the crowd was loud enough to drown out her voice if one was not listening. "I knew him. He was from my village. He was a good man." She bowed her head and said no more.

What more could she say without admitting he had taken the punishment that was meant to be hers? Then she would be down there and the both of them would be dead.

Iroh saw her grief but said nothing more, not here in this open place. Not here where his brother was watching or his father's servants took notes. Something told him this girl was important. He knew not why or how, but Iroh had always trusted his instincts. They brought him far in life. So he paid the girl extra attention, and now knew he would need to learn more about her. He let her pour him the tea he requested and watched the new firebending demonstration below.

Katara slid back into her spot and wiped the rest of her tears from her face with her silk sleeves. The firebending below held none of her attention today; she was too busy sending a silent prayer of thanks to the man who had unknowingly given his life for hers. She was safe now, but she felt miserable. Katara hung her head until she noticed Iroh stir and the rest of the servants move to their masters' sides. The Arena was empty and the crowds were dispersing. Katara stepped into place behind Iroh and followed the procession to the palace.

"That waterbender wasn't very good," Katara heard princess Azula state. The three grandchildren of the Fire Lord walked just behind Iroh and Katara in a clump.

"He was up against five firebenders," Zuko frowned. "What did you expect?"

"It just shows we need better guards," Azula sneered. "If that one man killed one of the guards without being very skilled, I bet that guard wasn't very good himself."

"Not everyone can be a master Azula," Lu Ten chastised, almost bored with his cousin's statement. "Besides, he gave his life defending this city, _our_ city. You should show him more respect." Katara noticed Iroh smile and nod to himself. She was obviously not the only one eavesdropping.

"And," Zuko stated. "If _you_ were up against five experienced benders, I'd doubt you'd do any better."

"Is that a challenge Zuzu?" Azula smiled.

"Don't call me that!" Zuko snapped. She ignored him.

"You and Lu Ten against me," she laughed. "I'll show you I'm better than that worthless waterbender.

"It's not the same Azula," Zuko frowned.

"You're just worried that I'll win," Azula said. At that point in the conversation the procession had reached the palace and the three broke off from Iroh and Katara. He led her to her room and shut the door behind them. Katara looked up expectantly at him. Iroh was a busy man; he did not typically spend time entertaining her. She placed the tea set down and pulled out the dirty pieces to set aside for washing once he left. Iroh took a breath and Katara spoke.

"Thank you for the book," she stated, not wanting to think about what just happened in The Arena. "The stories were different from anything I've ever heard." Iroh smiled.

"I supposed that shouldn't surprise me," Iroh answered. He sat on the bed opposite hers. "I picked it out because it had illustrations to go along with the text. I guess I needn't have worried that you could read. Though, I doubt Shiyu taught you."

"My mother started teaching me back at the South Pole," Katara explained. "Then my grandmother continued once we came here." Iroh wanted to ask what had become of the child's mother, but refrained from asking. He had his own guess if the woman looked anything like her daughter. He was not blind to what happened to the prisoners taken into the city. He knew the fate many of them faced.

"May I ask you a question?" Katara asked after a moment's pause.

"Anything," he chuckled. Her innocence in asking was refreshing. She could not be much younger than his niece Azula, yet the two of them were such opposites.

"Why did you lie about where you got me from?" she asked. "Is it a bad to say I worked with Shiyu-?"

"No," Iroh shook his head. "My brother spends a lot of time in the same company as Admiral Zhao talking politics and playing the court games of royalty. I don't want him letting anyone know where you truly came from in case it gets back to the admiral. I'd prefer to avoid him on the matter." Katara nodded. It somewhat made sense to her, though she wondered why Iroh did not trust his brother to keep a secret if he was told to.

"Can I ask something else?" she questioned. Iroh nodded, anticipating a similar inquiry from the girl.

"Why did the Fire Nation take my village here?" Katara asked. It was the same question she had struggled with since they had been captured. She was young at the time of the invasion, so many details were foggy. But Katara did know that if she had not been brought here her mother would still be alive and no one would have died on her behalf today. This man could most likely give her the best answer, aside from the captain of the Southern Raiders himself.

The question was not what Iroh expected her to ask in the least. The old man was at a loss for how to respond, Katara could see that much.

"I'm sorry if I asked something I shouldn't have," she rushed to say, "I was curious."

"Katara," Iroh said, watching as she pulled at the hemline on her sleeves. "I can't tell you why your village was taken here, but I can explain why prisoners are taken in general, if that is what you wish to know." Katara nodded and looked up at him, forgetting her sleeves once he had agreed to answer. No one ever reprimanded her for asking things before, since she was usually silent, but she felt that she had overstepped a boundary line. Katara had never known cruelty in her life, at least not directly at her, so she had no reason to expect it for her actions. She noticed Iroh's watchful gaze on her, as if he was trying to learn what he could from her just by looking.

"You are aware there is a war being fought, correct?" Iroh asked. Katara nodded. She'd heard it mentioned both here and at the South Pole. Though, the whole concept of war was foreign to her; she never witnessed it nor lost anyone directly to fighting. _What did one nation have to do to make another so completely enraged with it in the first place?_

"The first battles, almost one hundred years ago, yielded a handful of prisoners from the Earth Kingdom. As the number of prisoners grew with each battle our armies won, our troops worried about them gaining in number and escaping to reveal strategies and information. They were sent back to the capital city, where Fire Lord Solzen decided they made cheap laborers and easy coin for the royal family. When the benders began escaping from their noblemen masters, Fire Lord Solzen declared only nonbenders could be sold and created the stadium, called The Arena, for the benders to try and win their freedom. It was a clever cover to hide the fact that they simply fighting to the death since hardly any of them won." Katara nodded in agreement at his last statement.

"It soon became clear that not all towns were going to fight back. These towns and villages were allowed to exist in peace if they offered benders or warriors for The Arena every five or so years. They were allowed to then exist as demi citizens to the Fire Nation without fear they would be completely enslaved. The Arena today is almost equally filled by benders and nonbenders, much different from when it began."

"Today, these matches have become a way to show the people of the city that our nation is winning the war and is still the most powerful. As long as this war is being fought, the arena will remain open. And for it to remain open there needs to be fighters. As crazy as it sounds, the bloodshed in there keeps the peace on the city streets. If our citizens thought that we were losing this war, they would panic. Though for the past ten years, the battlefields yield less and less prisoners of war, and simply more killing." Katara worked through this new information and came to a dreadful realization, one she was sure Iroh was aware of.

"So my village was betrayed," Katara stated. "The soldiers on the boat said something about us no longer being Fire Nation citizens. We had no benders and no warriors who fought against the Fire Nation before the ships arrived. They invaded and took us here because they needed more fighters, didn't they?" Katara asked. She begged Iroh to refute her claim.

"It would seem so," Iroh hung his head. It took a lot for Iroh to be ashamed of his country. He was set to inherit the throne, he was the general, in charge of the full military strength of the nation; he must love his home above all else. But he knew the toll this war had put on its people. He hadn't known six years ago when he left for the battlefront after a short reprieve back home to fetch his son to accompany him, but such truths have a way of making themselves clear to those who need to know them.

"Thank you," Katara finally said, her head still lowered. Her blue eyes had filled with tears that she was fighting to keep from falling.

"Katara," Iroh stated. "I'm sorry you had to witness that today. If I had known the young man would have been from your village-"

"No," Katara sighed as she shook her head. "I'm glad I was there. He needed someone on his side as he fought." She lowered her voice. "He was innocent of that crime." Iroh made no indication of whether he heard her or not.

"Did you know him well?" Iroh probed. Katara nodded.

"My village was small," she replied, her tears returning. "My brother and him were friends, somewhat. He was older then Sokka and my brother looked up to him. He was nice to me. He didn't deserve to be cut down as he was without a chance. He wasn't a killer."

"Men change when they feel their lives are in danger, when they feel backed in a corner with nowhere to go," Iroh explained, slowly. "Being held captive can make a calm man into rash one." He paused. Katara could see he wanted to change the subject. She probably overstepped her boundaries by insulting the system of justice in his nation. He was after all, not just her master, but heir to the throne of the Fire Nation.

"Tell me more about your village," Iroh said. "I was never part of the raids that took place on the watertribes." Katara wasn't sure what he hoped to gain by her telling him. Her village was gone.

"The Firebenders who took us away burned the village to the ground," she explained. "There's nothing left."

"Tell me about it before they came," Iroh coaxed, "about the buildings, the people."

"Our tribe sat on the northern tip of the South Pole. Each family had an igloo where they lived." When Iroh stared in confusion at the word, she explained. "The buildings are made of ice and snow. Sometimes, if the igloo is large enough, then support beams made of whale bone or driftwood are put into it to help support the building. Doors are animal skins, and the insides of the igloos are very warm, warmer than you'd think. I miss them." Katara paused again; she didn't truly remember the igloo she called home, all she could remember was that she felt safe and loved there.

"My father was the chief of the tribe, and my brother was just starting to be interested in warrior training. My mother had already taught him to read and write and was working with me. But then the black snow fell and the ships came."

"What happened once you were here?" Iroh asked. He had always enjoyed learning about other cultures, at first if only to get a military advantage other them. Now, it helped him to see what drove people to act the way they did. It was especially useful on the battlefront. The general wondered absentmindedly how his life would have been different if he had told his father that he wanted to be a tea drinking scholar of people instead.

"My father and brother were separated from my grandmother and me. I found out later that they were sent to fight in The Arena. I haven't seen either of them since I talked to my brother a few years back. My grandmother and I were taken by a man who wanted someone to watch his children. But afterwards I ended up with Shiyu, and I enjoyed my time with him. I wish I could go back." Katara sighed. Her eyes widened and she looked up in fear.

"Not that I don't appreciate everything you've done for me here," she added hurriedly. "But I felt so helpful with him."

"As strange as it sounds Katara," Iroh explained. "You're safe here. You were lucky to have escaped your kidnapping without harm but next time you might not be so lucky. The man who ordered your capture is adamant to have you."

"Why?" Katara asked. "Why did he want me so bad he needed to steal me away? If he needed me for my medical abilities, Shiyu would have let me help him at the arena, and I'm not even better then Shiyu is. Why was I taken to where I was? I don't understand."

"Do you know where you were taken that night?" Iroh asked.

"You asked me before," Katara stated. "I think it was The SpitFire. You called it a brothel, but you never explained what that was." Iroh took a deep breath; it almost appeared that he was at a loss for words.

"A brothel is where men go to have sex with women." Iroh stated. "That was why Shiyu and I were worried about you."

"I still don't understand," Katara stated. "What does that mean?" Iroh stared at her for moment.

"How old are you Katara?" Iroh asked.

"Sixteen," she answered. She had celebrated her birthday each year with her grandmother at Mr Zu's and then eventually shared it with Shiyu when she came to stay with him. He was surprised at her age when he first learned it, thinking she was much younger since she was so small at first.

"Old enough," Iroh said to himself more than her. Katara watched as the old man looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. She wondered if this would be a similar to her last talk she had about a new topic. Iroh was acting the same way as Shiyu had when he discussed her moon times.

"You don't have to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable," Katara sighed. "I'm sorry I asked. Shiyu was the same when he had to tell me about my moon time." Iroh noticed that the girl spoke without blushing as most would. Katara knew not to be embarrassed sharing the information, no one had taught her to be. She assumed Shiyu's reaction was typical to only him. While her current master's reaction was similar, she still didn't think anything of it. Iroh admired her innocence, but still was unsure how to go about this talk.

"Can you tell me why the room I left in at the Spitfire was decorated to look like the Southern Water Tribe?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts. "Do all the rooms look like that?"

"I assume not," Iroh replied. "The Spitfire is known for its variety of specialty rooms that create a sense of the exotic and foreign thrills for its customers. Other brothels in the city don't have that, thus the building is a popular location for men with more coin who can pay for the experience."

"And you won't tell me what this experience is," Katara finished for him. She frowned, feeling deflated at the news.

"Katara," Iroh stated, "you'll need to know about this eventually. I just feel I'm not the one to explain it to you. I'll make sure to find someone more suitable."

"No," Katara interrupted. "It's ok, you don't have to do that for me. I'm sure I'll figure it out on my own."

"That's exactly was I'm afraid of-" Iroh began, but a knock at the door interrupted him. It opened without prompting, and Lu Ten walked in.

"Grandfather wishes to talk with us," he stated before even shutting the door. Iroh put a hand on Katara's shoulder and stood.

"We'll speak later," the old man told her. He turned to Lu Ten as the boy led him out, "What did he say?"

"He said it was urgent and-" the door cut Lu Ten's words off and Katara was left alone in the room.

* * *

Sorry for the late post everyone... But, new chapter yay! And such a long one. I'm not sure how that happened, OK maybe I do (I blame the dialogue), and I think we've met everyone now huh? ;)

I will admit, writing for Lu Ten is difficult in terms of dialogue since he has no base from the show to go off of. I hope he comes off as real enough for everyone. I admit, he's probably slightly younger in this story then what is cannon.

I was hoping to touch slightly on the differences in the father/son relationships of the royal family, but we'll see where the story takes us. The new chapter should be up shortly, I promise. :)

The chapter title is from the song "Learning to Breathe" by Switchfoot


	10. When Your Older

**Chapter 10 — When You're Older**

"When he didn't return at all that day, I wondered what could have happened with his father that kept Prince Iroh away."

* * *

Iroh wondered what this meeting could be about. He was certain his father had just gotten home from the Arena like the rest of them, so the information must have been important to wait for them to discuss it inside the walls of the palace.

Lu Ten and Iroh entered the throne room where Azulon sat behind his curtain of flames. They both bowed, as was custom, and then waited to hear what the Fire Lord had to say. The old man was straight to the point.

"I'm sending you two back to the war front," he stated. Iroh kept hold of his surprise better than his son, but the boy knew enough at least not to say anything. It should not have shocked them, they had both been away from the front for a decent amount of time at this point.

"When?" Iroh finally asked.

"I'm sending the newest troops tomorrow," Fire Lord Azulon explained. The time frame was too soon, Iroh thought, something must have happened that pushed his father's decision. At the last war strategy meeting, it was decided that the next wave of infantry would be deployed once their siege weapons were ready, and that was months off. Iroh knew better than to fight with his father over the subject here. He had already expressed his own concern at the meeting. If his father refused to listen and gave the order anyway, it was out of his hands. Though, being away from the front lines had given him a sense of false hope that the war would end shortly. Maybe this was what needed to happen now. Once the war ended and the Fire Nation came out on top, the rest of the world would fall in line and there could be peace. Iroh stood and offered his father another bow; Lu Ten joined him to leave.

"Iroh," called Azulon at the last moment.

"Yes father?" Iroh asked.

"Finish this war my son," Azulon stated. "I'm getting tired. The throne is waiting." Iroh nodded and left the room. Lu Ten did not comment on the last phrase his grandfather had spoken. Iroh figured the boy was smart enough to know what was going on. It was not that strange that Azulon wanted to wait to pass the throne until the war was over. Iroh figured he wanted the world under his control and in neat order before he gave him his birthright. He was not surprised, his father had always wanted the best for his eldest. Only after seeing his brother Ozai struggle to glean even the slightest portion of his father's respect did Iroh realize it though.

"You'd better get your stuff together," Iroh stated to Lu Ten. His son nodded, began to walk off, and paused.

"What will you do with the girl?" he asked.

"I'll bring her along," Iroh stated. He had not thought of what to do with her truthfully. Iroh walked back to his rooms to collect his things. He had less than twenty four hours to get everything set.

Katara was the one piece that he did not know off-hand what to do with. He had taken her in to keep her safe from Zhao. While Iroh respected the man as a soldier, his morals were twisted, along with most of the nobility here at the capital. She was still young, and he appreciated her innocence. Iroh did not want her to lose that part of her just yet, especially to a man like the Admiral. He would need to inform Katara of the change in plans.

Iroh was not thrilled to tell her that she would accompany him to the war front. The last general's tea steward had been a man, so being trapped in a camp of male soldiers was not a big deal. There were few women soldiers, and the ones who were, were firebenders from lower class families just trying to earn a living, and thus were not likely to step in if they saw their comrades messing with a defenseless servant. As trapped as the young woman was here in the palace, she would truly be a prisoner in a war camp. Iroh was also a very hands-on general. He might not be at the front of every charge, but he would be on the field giving commands, not holed up in a tent miles away and safe from harm like his second-in-command did. This would mean that she would be left alone in the camp, and even though the men would be under his command, they were a long way from home, away from their wives; he knew many of them lost any morals they kept in the capital.

Iroh walked into the war room and found several other military officers milling about. He knew the Fire Nation had pulled back in their attacks at Ba Sing Se to confuse the Earth Kingdom, but for the amount of officers that stood there, it was shocking. He would have guessed they had already won.

"Commander Shu," Iroh called. "Do you have the battle record for the last year somewhere?" The man examining the table map at the center of the room nodded and moved to the side of the room. He pulled out a scroll and held it out to Iroh.

"This is the record of our own and the enemy's movements of the last year," Shu stated. "But, I can show you where they are now. I just received a new hawk this morning." Iroh took the scroll and nodded at the commander to explain.

The world map on the table was covered in pieces representing the armies and squadrons of every nation. Flag markers showed towns with quasi-citizen status as well as places that had been destroyed in battle or raids. Iroh had his own marker, being the general. The only other person who had a marker that represented just them as opposed to their unit, was the Fire Lord. Iroh had never understood why the Fire lord would need to be represented on the war map. The flame piece never strayed from the capital.

"Recently, the Earth Kingdom troops have been mounting surprise attacks against our outlaying bases near the west mountains," Shu stated. The other officers made their way over to the table. Iroh knew each one; being an officer for the Fire Nation typically meant one was old, there were very few young officers. Lu Ten was the youngest at twenty five, but even he knew his position was in part based on his royal title rather than experience. He had proven himself before the two of them were called back to the capital, but his rank was still fairly low. Iroh respected that. Officers were _usually_ promoted based on their skills on the field, not how much gold they had at home. At this point in the war, the glory of winning was long gone. These men were battle hardened.

"This camp moved back several miles to avoid the attack they saw coming a week ago," Shu stated, touching the two locations on the map. "The Earth Kingdom troops seem content to slowly drive us back west across the plains to the mountains."

"Have we made any advances?" Iroh questioned, looking over the history scroll. His frown deepened. The General looked to the map.

"We were letting the Earth Kingdom believe we were unsure and not attacking-" stated another officer, seeing the older man's look. Iroh interrupted, "you were _showing_ them exactly that!" He didn't often raise his voice, but these men had messed up. Luckily, all the ill-timed movements seemed to be recent, as in the last few months.

"Why are there so many of you back in the capital anyway?" Iroh questioned. He doubted the Firelord had called them all back personally. "Who's leading your troops?" The men looked to each other sheepishly.

"We came to watch the Agni Kai-"

"That was six months ago!" Iroh stated. He sighed, "We need to move forward now." He pointed to the table at their armies. "We'll all return to the front with the newest soldiers tomorrow, as I'm sure you've all heard by now." The men nodded, listening to Iroh as he gave his orders.

"Once we make it to the main army, we shall begin our advance to the wall. Our engineers have been working to invent something to help us achieve victory at long last." While the second state was still months off, it gave the men hope; the eldest prince was glad he kept track of some aspects of the war effort even as removed from it at home as he was. He assumed his officers would have known what to do in his absence, but he had been gone for a decent time as well. Iroh had not prepared a battle plan to share with the others yet, he expected to do that on the march to the wall. It would take at least a week and a half of marching once they got there with the whole new segment of the army in tow; luckily the engineers were working on that as well. The metal tanks they had were quick, but they could not carry everyone at once. There were rumors of flying machines as well, but Iroh refused to get his hopes up on those. Those rumors had been circulating for years in the inner circles of the military.

"General Iroh," said one of the other officers. "I've received the list of all the ships that we are to take with us and the troop numbers as well." Iroh nodded and reached for the new scroll. He set the previous one on the table and scanned the new document.

"Who is the highest ranked officer going with us?" Iroh asked. As per custom, the general always sailed or traveled with the officer with the best rank. They typically had the best accommodations anyway.

"Admiral Zhao will transport you and your son," the officer explained. Iroh froze, remembered the company he was with, and then gave a satisfied nod. Taking Katara was out of the question. She could not be seen by Zhao. Though, with the Admiral out to the country she would be safe if he left her here. He was tempted to send Shiyu a hawk to let him know that he could have his assistant back. He would need to add that to his to-do list. With what to do with Katara taken care of, Iroh focused on devising a battle plan with the officers as well as looking in to their supply chain needs. The planning took well into the night; the candles were nearly burned out by the time Iroh left the war room. The remaining time was too short for all he needed to do. At least the boat ride to the western edge of the Earth Kingdom would allow him to catch up on his missed sleep.

It was slightly out of the way for Iroh to head to the roost, but he wanted to warn Shiyu to be ready to take Katara back tomorrow. It was too late tonight; Katara would already be in bed. He hoped he could catch Shiyu before the medic dozed off as well.

The hawkary was silent, as Iroh expected it to be at this hour. He opened the door and walked over to the desk to write Shiyu the missive. The sound of a cage door opening in the back of the room made Iroh pause in the middle of the letter.

"General Iroh," said the voice. The hawk squawked as it was taken from the cage. "What a surprise to find you here. Sending your orders to the front?" Iroh refolded the note he was halfway through with and held it over the candle till it caught flame. Iroh laughed. The burned pieces of paper floated into the air out the window and vanished.

"I would have to have some orders to send first," Iroh joked. He turned to face the Admiral while grabbing a new parchment sheet. "You missed the meeting this evening."

"Yes," Admiral Zhao smiled without meaning to. "You'll have to forgive me General. I had _pressing needs_ to attend to all day. I had a minor setback in some plans a few days back, and today was needed." The look the Admiral wore on his face was one most men knew well; though Zhao was especially good at wearing it. Iroh wondered why the Admiral was here, surely he had his own messenger hawks to send notes with, but he was also curious if the man had just let slip what he thought he did.

"Oh, I understand Zhao," Iroh stated. "But will one day be enough to hold you through the months that we'll be away?"

"No," Admiral Zhao responded bluntly, "but the girls at the 'Spitfire' made a good effort. It's been nearly a year since I'd gone through that many whores in a single day." Iroh closed his eyes, held them shut for a moment and then looked back at the other man. Zhao was still basking in his past performance glow and seemed to be caught off guard by Iroh's next question.

"Who's the message for?" he asked.

"My mother," the admiral said without missing a beat, and rolled his eyes. "It's news of my departure if she wishes to see me off in the morning. And your own?" He had been referring to the missive that Iroh burned.

"It's to my wife," Iroh lied, bowing his head. Zhao grimaced.

"How a sentimental old fool like you wins all the battles you do, I'll never know." Zhao scowled. He stepped to the window, threw open the latches, and tossed the hawk bearing his message out into the sky. Iroh watched the creature flap out of sight, and he moved to the door. He would risk not sending the medic a note and just show up in the morning.

"I'll see you in the morning, General Iroh," Zhao stated when the two men left the roost. He noted the Admiral headed towards the war council room, probably to familiarize himself with the current army's movements. Iroh bid him goodnight and walked back to this own room. Once there, he sent a silent but actual prayer to his wife in the spirit world.

...

The next morning Iroh awoke with the sun as he always did and changed into his formal officer attire. It was never worn otherwise, aside from these public events and at a battle's end. Iroh understood the reason behind the two sets of silks for officers, but it meant bringing both of them to battle. His actual armor, with real, heavy metal plating was packed up and already being transported to Zhao's ship. These formal outfits had little metal on them, making them easier to move in with fewer restrictions. The red silk and leather padding was soft and unbroken without having to withstand years of fire blasts and weapon thrusts. It would do him little good in an actual battle.

Lu Ten met him at the door that led them out of their wing of the palace and into the main building. Lu Ten's uniform was less elaborate then this father's, but still stood out amongst the others of same rank because of his bloodline.

In the main hall, Iroh was intercepted by one of his father's general servants. The man bowed and offered Iroh a scroll, still bound with an unbroken wax seal. Immediately, Iroh wondered who it could be from. Wax, unless used by the royal family, was uncommon. The message must be important if it was sealed like it was.

He opened the note as Lu Ten followed him to the dining room. It was still too early for the rest of the family to normally be up; though today, they would all be up and gathered at the docks soon enough. The grand ceremony that would take place with their departure would not be missed by his brother and his family. Ozai had never been a soldier; he was better suited for the court games the nobles played. Even with his bending at the level it was, he declined Azulon's recent offer to give him a position of command in the military like Iroh's own.

Iroh sat at the table, picked up a slice of bread, and opened the note. He noticed it was from Shiyu and dated with yesterday's date. The runner the medic handed it to had obviously not been in a hurry. He scanned the letter and frowned.

"Who's it from?" Lu Ten asked, nonchalantly as he ate his own breakfast. The both of them knew to savor this meal where the table was piled high with everything they could want. The battlefield was no place for such feasts.

"Shiyu," Iroh answered. "He took on an apprentice. A young man from the Academy."

"That's great," Lu Ten grinned. "He took your advice then."

"Except I was going to give him back Katara," Iroh stated.

"You changed your mind then about bringing her?" asked Lu Ten.

"Admiral Zhao-" Iroh began, but the door was thrown open. A frazzled looking servant bowed low and quickly began speaking.

"Excuse the intrusion your highnesses, but the Firelord expects your presence at the docks in seven minutes for the prelaunch check," he stammered. "I tried to get here as fast-" Iroh and Lu Ten had already stood and moved to the door, passing the poor man still catching his breath.

"We're on Zhao's ship for the journey there. He can't see her. I wouldn't be able to hide her the whole time. Now, Shiyu wouldn't be able to take her back. I can't leave her in that room for the time it would take to return-"

"Someone else could take her," Lu Ten interrupted. Iroh sighed and shook his head. They neared the doors that led to the main steps leading from the palace. He had a fondness for the young girl he had taken on, and thus did not want to hand her over to anyone. He didn't want to leave Katara here unprotected: even with his own family.

Azulon would have no use for her; his own servants were all highly specialized and loyal to him only. He wouldn't want her around. Ozai would gladly take her, but Iroh feared what might happen if he caught her alone. His brother's relationship with his wife was off and on. Lady Ursa was a strong woman, but even she could only put with so much of her husband before refusing to share his bed now that he had proven his lineage. Ozai was known to take his frustration out on female servants; he would have saved Katara from one dominating man just to hand her over to another.

The women, Lady Ursa and Azula, had servants of their own, but they ultimately belonged to Ozai. Some old Fire Lord long ago had decided that woman could not oversee their own servants even though that was how the nobility worked today. Lady Ursa oversaw much of the day to day logistics of the servants in Ozai's wing of the palace, but she 'owned' none of their own, and then it hit him.

"Zuko," Iroh smiled and stopped on the top step outside the palace, even as his son passed him by a few steps. "Lu Ten-"

"What?"

"Zuko," Iroh smiled as he caught his breath. "Zuko can-"

"I'll tell him," the boy offered. He seemed to understand his father's train of thought and also realized that he could move faster then his father in backtracking to tell him. "I'm not sure if he'll know what to do with her though. He's never had a servant to his name. And we all know how well my first experience went."

"He'll figure it out. I trust him." Iroh laughed. "I'll see you at the docks." Lu Ten nodded, turned back in the direction they had come from and vanished. Iroh moved down to the docks with a lighter step. He was positive his nephew would watch over the girl while he was away. She seemed fairly obedient and the boy was not prone to physical attacks when he lost his temper, at least not that he had seen. Besides, the boy needed to learn responsibility for when he managed his own set of servants in a household, and Iroh figured keeping watch over Katara would be helpful. He had little doubt things would be ok on the home front.

* * *

New chapter! Iroh's turn at carrying the story.

Just so everyone knows, this is now my most reviewed story ever! Yay!

The chapter title comes from the lyrics to the song "Trust Me" by The Fray.


	11. Silent Pain

**Chapter 11- Silent Pain**

"I miss the fluttery feeling that I had no words for. Now its only the gnawing tension of worry. I hate it, I hate him."

* * *

She had not heard from Iroh since Lu Ten pulled him from their conversation yesterday. Even so, Katara was still up with the sun, just in case she was needed. After ten years of waking at dawn to assist whoever she worked for, the habit was difficult to break.

She peered out the window and noticed the people rushing around. The day did not feel any different to Katara, but the servants outside seemed panicked. She stood when she heard footsteps rushing down the hallway outside her door. It swung open, the door slamming against the wall. The room shook and Katara jumped when Lu Ten hurried inside. The military uniform threw her off for a second until he called her by name and she recognized his voice. It became easier to see past the polished the clothing to Lu Ten.

"Katara," he said, slightly winded. She assumed he had been running; though, in the armor he wore she did not know why, even as light as it looked.

"Grab your stuff," he stated. "We have to go, _now_." Katara grabbed her pile of still unworn clothing and moved to pick up the tea box.

"You won't need the tea set," he stopped her. He looked to the clothing in her hands. "Is that all you have?" Katara nodded, paused, and reached to grab the book Iroh had given her to pass the time.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he led her out of the room and into the hallway.

"My father and I are going to finish the war in the Earth Kingdom," Lu Ten explained. "He can't take you with him, so he's leaving you with Zuko."

They walked as quickly as they could without flat out running from Iroh and Lu Ten's rooms in the palace and towards the identical wing to the other side.

"Where's Prince Iroh?" Katara asked. If he was leaving, she wanted to be able to say goodbye.

"He's already at the docks," Lu Ten explained. "There was a last minute change in plans."

"Wait," Katara said, slowing down her pace, his previous statement finally hitting home. "You're leaving me here with Zu- prince Zuko?! Why can't I go back to Shiyu?" Lu Ten grimaced and looped his arm around her waist to keep her moving forward at his pace. He was on a time crunch. No one made the Fire Lord wait; time revolved around the Fire Lord.

"Shiyu took an apprentice, and he can't have the both of you," he answered. "My father seems sure that Zuko will be a good replacement while the two of us are away. So, just be good and listen to him."

"But-" Katara stuttered. They walked by several servants going about their routines. This side of the palace seemed busier in general then Iroh's rooms. They passed another man in servant's clothing hurrying on his own way. Everyone they passed paused to give Lu Ten a bow.

Katara was guided along the hallway, through a courtyard, and over to more rooms. She had nothing more to say as Lu Ten stopped in front of a set of wooden double doors and knocked. The voice behind it mumbled something incoherent that Lu Ten took as 'come in'. He pressed open the door and walked in, pushing Katara along with him.

"Zuko!" Lu Ten called in surprise. Katara immediately felt her face flush. The youngest prince stood half naked, his hair tousled, a shirt in his hands. She was obviously not prepared to be left with the youngest prince; her stomach tied itself in knots.

"Did you just get up?" Lu Ten asked. He was smiling as he said it, but there was an undercurrent of jealousy in his question. Zuko pulled the undershirt on and frowned at his cousin.

"No," came the obvious lie. He turned to stare at Katara.

"What's she here for?" he asked. Katara frowned but recognized that she would be surprised as well in the same situation. Sighing, Lu Ten gave his cousin a sheepish smile.

"She can't come with us with us to the front, so my father is leaving her with you," Lu Ten explained.

"What am I supposed to do with her-?" Zuko began to ask.

"Dad thinks you'll find some use," Lu Ten shrugged. Katara heard the tone of his voice change from lighthearted to serious then. "Oh, I need you to cover for me again." Lu Ten added, he gave Zuko a stare to which the younger boy nodded. He turned to leave, paused, and then added, "you _will_ be watching us depart, I assume?"

"Of course," the youngest prince frowned, annoyed at the accusation. Lu Ten laughed and retreated out the door.

"Lu Ten, wait!" Zuko called, but Lu Ten was already gone. Zuko and Katara stared at each other for a moment. She clutched her clothing and the single book tighter to her chest, using it as a mini barrier between them. Zuko sighed, straightened the rest of his outfit, and glanced outside the massive window that lined half of his room. Only a small portion of it was open since the curtains were still closed from the night.

"I'll be back after they depart," Zuko stated finally. He was still shocked by the fact that he had simply been left with her. She felt the same way.

"Stay in this room until I get back." He grabbed something off the writing desk by the door and left the room. When his footsteps receded down the hall, Katara released a pent up breath and closed her blue eyes. After a calming moment, she set her clothing down on a padded stool and examined the room. It was huge; Shiyu's whole apartment could easily fit inside this single room, even in its messy state.

The bed sat in the center, raised up on a low, single step-like platform. It was nothing like the simple cots she had spent her life in; this bed was plush and humungous. Katara walked around the room, passing over the red runner carpets that outlined the edge of the raised dais and over to the window. Flowering pots had been placed by the windows, most likely to keep the room from being submerged in the dark of rich brown wood, heavy red curtains, and silky black accents. The bright yellow flowers certainty helped to bring some sun in.

Katara walked over to them, examining the unlit candles and small figurines made of different metals on her way. She had never held or used coins of any kind, but the basics of the colors and their worth had not been lost on her. Gold, she knew, was worth much more then silver and copper, so she admired the multiple golden statues of scorpionlions, dragons, and flames before moving to the window opening.

She pushed the decorative wooden screen aside in order to lean outside and let a smile spread across her face. The window looked out onto the city. Since the palace was raised slightly from the other buildings, she was able to see all the way down to the ocean over the broken mountain peaks that surrounded the upper ring of the capital. According to her book, the capital was built inside an extinct volcano where a mighty horde of dragons once lived. The volcano part appeared true, though she was more skeptical about the dragons.

Leaning further out the window, she spotted the fleet of ironclad ships that she assumed was taking Iroh and Lu Ten to the Earth Kingdom. She watched for a long time, until the sun was high in the sky, studying the city and ships from above.

Finally, smoke billowed from the lead ship and the fleet slowly moved out into the open ocean. She thought she heard a crowd of people calling out and cheering, but they were far off at the docks, too far for her to truly hear. Katara stared out the window until the fleet faded into the distance, long after the crowds finally dispersed.

She thought to Shiyu and how she wished she could be back at The Arena assisting him. The watertribe girl knew in her heart that there was no way both she and his new assistant could live in that tiny apartment. She enjoyed her time learning under him; her skills improved more than he could ever know. Now she had to face the fact that she needed to move on and stop wishing she was back there. Taking a deep breath, Katara attempted to mentally ready herself for this new chapter in her life.

The door opened and scared Katara out of her inner thoughts. She turned around and stood, stepping away from the window. Zuko had already moved to his bed, pausing when he remembered that he was not alone. The two of them stared at each other for some time, not quite sure how to react to each other. She felt the fluttering feeling once more, but noticed he had a deep frown etched onto his face. She wondered if something upset him. _Maybe the fact his uncle and cousin were headed back to the war front? _He looked too tense for that to be the issue at hand.

Katara watched as he stared at her, making eye contact. His golden eyes narrowed, moving away from her face to survey the rest of her. Katara felt her checks flush; she was glad she had thought to change out of her night clothes this morning even without Iroh having told her what his plans were. Her servant robes were modest, almost something cut for an older woman. At least they had fit her without modification, unlike her clothing back in The Arena.

It wasn't a new feeling, being visually inspected; everyone who she assisted did it. It was typically quick, followed by a look of confusion or suspicion in The Arena medical office. It was not until Katara had met the Admiral that she realized that maybe not everyone was assessing her skills when they looked her over. She still did not understand why such looks from this boy brought heat to her face, but they did all the same.

She wondered what the young prince was searching for. His frown tightened when he came back up to her eyes; the grip he had on the bedpost tightened.

"Why don't you look away?" he asked curtly.

"Why should-" Katara began, but was interrupted.

"That wasn't a question to answer," Zuko snapped. "You should have just done it." The warm fluttery feeling was replaced with nervousness at his tone. He seemed on edge. This was not the prince she remembered, though she had never interacted with him in his home, in his _room_ of all places. No one was here to buffer any words or actions he gave her.

"Why?" Katara asked, her frown mirroring his. She missed Lu Ten and Iroh and their way of explaining verses yelling, but she held her ground. Even Shiyu, who had raised his voice with her, explained what he wanted and why. Katara had learned to question him when he said something that did not make sense. Zuko seemed to be at a loss for words.

"Did my uncle put you up to this?" Zuko asked, striding towards her. "Did he say not to listen to anything I said? As some extra lesson in-?"

"N-no," Katara stuttered, leaning back to brace herself against the window as he came closer and closer. She again wondered what had happened between when she saw him this morning and now to get him so worked up and irrational. "Lu- Prince Lu Ten told me to listen to your orders. I wouldn't-"

"Then why aren't you doing that?" Zuko fumed.

"You haven't given me any instructions yet!" Katara snapped, fearful of what she did not know. She recalled Prince Ozai shouting after lunch the day before at who she assumed could have only been a servant dropping a plate or a glass in his presence. It was not something she wished would be directed at her, but at the same time, something told her not to back herself into a corner completely now, even in avoidance. She did not usually get frustrated so quickly; she took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, stealing herself in defense.

"You should just know," Zuko frowned. "You were my uncle's servant and the arena medics' before that."

"I was Shiyu's _assistant_, not his servant," Katara corrected him, her tone still curt. "And I only served Prince Iroh his tea, nothing more. I don't know what you expect me to do until you tell me." Zuko looked to the ceiling and let a deep breath, complete with steam, free.

"So you just followed my Uncle around and poured him tea?" the youngest prince asked, disbelieving. She heard his anger begin to fade.

"Yes," Katara replied. He relaxed as he calmed down, walking down towards the door, pacing the room with even strides.

"Why did he leave you with me then?" Zuko asked.

"I didn't ask," Katara answered. "Lu Ten took me to you and said I was to listen to you while Prince Iroh is gone."

"And you only know how to serve tea," Zuko repeated.

"If you'd only tell me what you need, I'm sure I could do that," Katara stated with pursed lips. Zuko shook his head and frowned.

"Just clean the room up," he continued under his breath. "That should take you long enough until I figure but what to do with you."

"Where should I put my clothing?" Katara asked as the prince opened the door to leave.

"There should be room in the bottom drawer of the dresser," came his response. "Don't break anything." The door closed; she heard the lock turn, shutting her inside.

She had only given the mess a cursory glance before when she walked in. It reminded her of the nursery back with her first master, Mr. Zu. Instead of toys, there were piles of crumpled clothing on the floor, heaps of books and paper, and an unmade bed. She wondered if any of the servants she had seen in the halls were supposed to clean this room, but she did as she was bid. The clothing surely needed to be washed; she piled it near the door. When the prince returned she would ask him what he wanted done with it. As the sun rose and then began to fall, Katara finished organizing the mess on the night tables, shelves, and single writing desk. She ended up finding and throwing a handful of empty ink bottles and unusable brushes into the waste bin beside the desk.

Soon, the room looked much better and Katara was out of things to do. She stored her clothing in the bottom drawer like Zuko had said. In the remaining light, Katara settled herself on the lounge in the corner with the book of myths. That was how Zuko found her when he returned hours later.

The prince strode into his room, looking around. She wondered if he expected to see her still working on cleaning up his mess. It was a slight feeling of smugness in completing her task in less time then he assumed that kept her from rising to greet him as she had always done with Iroh and Lu Ten. She watched from the corner of her eye as he noticed the pile of clothing near the door, then looked over at her.

"What's this?" he asked, motioning with an open palm at the clothing.

"Your dirty clothing," Katara answered, looking up from her book. "You said not to leave the room. I assume you have other servants who do your laundry, correct?" Zuko walked over to her as she closed the book; she looked up, he stood right in front of her.

"What's that?" he asked, reaching for the book like a spoiled toddler.

"A book," Katara replied, somewhat sarcastically, clutching it to her chest. She was almost finished. There were only three stories left for her to read. "Your uncle gave it to me to pass the time when he didn't need me."

"You can read?" Zuko asked, his face showed his disbelief.

"Of course I can read!" Katara snapped. She stood, still holding the book to her chest. Somehow, she knew she was playing with fire by talking back to him the way she was. But that statement boiled her blood. She would normally be content to do as she was asked as long as she was treated with respect. "Is it unusual for your servants to be able to read?" She wandered how she had ever felt anything pleasant towards this disrespectful prince. All she wanted to do was be free of him and back with his uncle and cousin.

"No, all the palace servants can read," Zuko answered. The questioned had thrown him off balance. "Did the arena medic teach you? He had to have…"

"Shiyu didn't teach me, my mother did, back at the Southern Water Tribe," she explained. "And if all your servants can read, why would it shock you that I could as well?"

"All the servants in the place are Fire Nation citizens," Zuko growled. Katara hesitated, frowned, and then looked back up at him with ice edging her blue eyes.

"So because I'm not Fire Nation, you expect me to be less," she stated, lips in a tight frown.

"Yes," came the blunt reply. "You _are_." Katara stood up tall, though her eyes still only came to his chin, and clenched her jaw. Shiyu had never treated her this way; he never treated any of the injured warriors as less than the nobles who came in, as least not outwardly. This boy pushed her buttons, and because of it she was careless.

"You're wrong Zuko," Katara stated. She did not catch her slip until the prince lunged forward, captured her wrists, and spun her so her back was pressed to the wall near the window.

"I will not tolerate such disrespect from a servant, even if you did belong to my uncle," the prince growled. Fear like she had only felt when the two guards captured her in the alley flooded through her when his hands grew hot. Katara cried out and squirmed to get away.

"You will address me as Prince Zuko or Master," he stated. His golden eyes narrowed as his hands tightened around her wrists. She could feel her skin starting to burn. "You are a lowly servant from the Water Tribe no less, I expect complete obedience. Do you understand?" Zuko shook her, pressing her harder against the wall.

"Yes!" Katara cried out. She felt a dull throbbing in her head where it came in contact with the wall. The faint smell of burned flesh wafted through the air as Zuko's hands grew hotter.

"Please," Katara begged. Her knees buckled, but she was held mostly in place by Zuko.

"Please what?" the prince asked. The thought of standing herself up and defying him had all but vanished.

"Please let me go Prince Zuko," Katara plead. The young man dropped her wrists and she tumbled to the ground. Tears ran down her face as she sat cradling the burns. A string of blistering spots circling each wrist gave the illusion that she was wearing multiple bracelets of pearls. They were tender to the touch and Katara simply stared at them for a moment until she realized the prince had changed clothes, thrown his old ones on the floor, and crawled into bed like nothing ever happened. Her voice was weak when she finally dared to speak, still refusing to look up.

"Prince Zuko?" she asked. "Do you have a room for me to sleep like Prince Iroh did?" The silence hung in the air so long that Katara worried she had asked the wrong question.

"You can sleep on the lounge," he finally sighed. She heard the sheet ruffle as the light from the candle across the room was extinguished. Only moonlight flooded into the room now. Katara walked back to the backless couch and settled in the night.

The punishment had driven the lesson home; Katara would not be trying her luck anytime soon. She could not remember the last time she cried for herself. Her tears stained her cheeks in the dark. From her position on the couch, the waterbender spotted the moon through the sheer curtains. Glancing over to the where the prince slept on his bed to make sure his eyes were closed, she sat up and lifted her clasped hands in prayer.

Head bowed, she asked the moon and ocean spirits for strength. A smile came to her face when memories of her mother washed over her. It had been years since the image had blurred in her memory; she did not focus on that. Instead, she remembered the feelings of love and safety that she felt with her. Katara brushed the trails away her tears had left. Smiling up at her nighttime guardian in the sky, she wished safety onto her father and brother before dropping her hands to her lap. She lay back down, still dressed in her daytime clothing and fell asleep.

...

The next morning, Katara rose seconds after the prince. The sun was just peeking up from the horizon, but she was well rested. As he disappeared into the bathing room connected to his bedroom, Katara jumped up to change clothes. She ran her fingers through her hair to pull out the tangles and then stretched out her stiff limbs. She missed sleeping on a real bed already.

Zuko walked out of the bathroom, his hair still dripping wet from washing his face. Katara stayed clear as he moved to the dresser where she had just been standing and pulled on a shirt before he turned to face her.

The moment their eyes met, she glanced at her feet. She remembered his reaction when he lost his temper, and she hoped to never repeat the situation from last night. The bracelet of burns on each wrist would be her reminder not to cross him. The prince seemed to have a temper like a new fire in a fire pit; sometimes happily burning away, and then without warning, sending sparks flying with loud popping sounds. He seemed calm now at least.

"Lu Ten never told me your name," Zuko stated almost hesitantly. "Considering you're my only servant, I might as well know yours."

"My name is Katara," she answered.

"Ka-tara," Zuko repeated, getting a feel for the foreign sounding word. She remained silent, still looking at her feet. She had yet to put shoes on, so she scrunched her toes to try and release her nerves. Katara had no reason to fear any of her masters before. The world, she knew, was full of hazards, but she expected to be safe when serving as long as she didn't reveal she was a bender. Mr Zu, Shiyu, and Iroh had never hurt her; they had all led her to believe that she would be safe from physical and verbal harm in their company. Zuko, with his quick temper and youthful strength, blew away all the years of security she had stored.

"Yes?" she finally answered, not sure if him saying her name was him waiting to give her an order or not.

"You really don't know anything do you?" Zuko asked, letting out a pent up breath. She noticed that he seemed to be trying to hold his frustration in check. It would take a lot more that one controlled conversation for her to feel safe though.

"I guess not," Katara agreed. "Tell me what I should be doing. I'll be glad to do it right." She looked up, pleading with him.

"When someone addresses you, you answer prompt with a 'yes my lord' or a 'yes' and their name and title." Zuko explained. Katara nodded. She did not have to agree with it; she only needed to know how to act properly to keep him from behaving rashly.

"Your tasks will be the upkeep of my room, laundry, and running errands or messages for me. You are free to leave the room as long as you have a task to do. Otherwise you are to stay here." Zuko stated, he turned away for a moment before thinking of something else. "When outside this room you are to bow for any nobles or members of the royal family until dismissed or out of sight." Katara recalled seeing all the servants stopped in their tracks when Lu Ten led her through the palace.

"You do know how to bow correctly, don't you?" the prince continued. Katara demonstrated and heard him voice his approval; she was glad she could make him happy on that regard. Who knew all the playtime she had with Bai growing up would come in so handy?

"I'll be around, so I expect you to do your tasks without prompting," he stated. Katara nodded. He moved to leave the room and got as far as the door before Katara called out to him with a question.

"Prince Zuko?" she called. "Where do I take the laundry?"

"I'll have one of my father's servants show you," was his reply as he shut the door. Katara stood alone in the room, gathering her breath for a moment before adding the new clothing to the pile. She made his bed, which was a massive job. Not only was the bed big enough for three people, but it seemed the prince was a fitful sleeper. The silk sheets were strewn every which way, tangled and untucked. The comforter was no better, kicked all the way to the foot of the bed and slipping off on some sections. By the time she set the pillows in place, the door opened and a tall, thin woman appeared.

"_You're_ the new servant?" she asked when she saw Katara. The girl nodded and saw the look she gave the pile of clothes at the door.

"Prince Zuko has instructed me to make sure you know your way to the laundry. Follow me," her tone was curt and condescending, but Katara scooped up the clothes and hurried after her. There was not much time for Katara to get a good look at her instructor over the towering pile in her hands before they arrived. The way was easy enough to remember, two lefts and right outside.

The large courtyard was full of flapping sheets hung out to dry in the sun. Katara got the hint. As the older women explained exactly how the great Fire Nation did their laundry, Katara looked longingly into the large basin of water. She was tempted to heal the blisters on her wrists, but she would not try anything with someone standing over her. Finally, the woman seemed to run out of instructions and simply hovered before speaking up again.

"Did they run out of servants that the Prince was stuck with you as his first?" she questioned. Katara noticed another set of female servants enter the courtyard, joking amongst themselves as they fetched clothing from a nearby line.

"Because even though you may think you are, you're no servant," the woman scowled. "You're a prisoner of war, a slave, inferior to all Fire Nation. You should be out working in the fields or fighting in The Arena with the rest of your kind. Who did you sleep with to get here?"

"I don't-," Katara stated, looking up from the clothing in the soapy water, confused. "I'm not-"

"You should count yourself lucky to be here in the palace. It's every Fire Nation citizen's dream to serve their Firelord." With that said, the woman turned on her heel and vanished. Katara turned her last comment over in her head, but it meant nothing to her, just as the previous statement confused her. She had never heard the phrase 'sleep with', so it meant not what it did to her as it did to everyone else. Likewise, the words whore and slut from before held no context, but slave and inferior did. She stood still for a moment, starting to think she had been very sheltered growing up away from all this inequality and hatred of anyone outside the Fire Nation. She had much to think about as she finished Zuko's clothing.

She ended up healing some of the biggest blisters on her wrists, but was unable to complete the task before more servants walked in. She had already learned to ignore their stares. What made her so different anyway? Was it purely that she didn't look like them? If that was all it took, they would want her head if they ever learned she was a bender.

...

Since her tasks were relatively simple, Katara was back in Zuko's room long before him. She had more than enough time to finish the book Iroh had loaned her and to take some of the stories to heart. They were very different from her tribe's myths; these were mostly about honor and forbidden love, while the Water Tribe stories told of family and teamwork. She enjoyed the differences but soon realized that she would need to ask Zuko for more books if he had nothing for her to fill her days with. She could only watch the capital city out the window for so long before even that became boring.

He came back just as the sun set. Katara waited until he noticed her to ask.

"Prince Zuko," she said. "I finished the book your uncle gave me," she paused. "Is there any chance that you could get me another one?" Zuko looked at her and then the room. The clothing was put away and everything else was spotless. He had had not thought that she would complete his tasks so quickly. Either he needed to find more for her to do, or he could keep her occupied with books. The book idea seemed like less work at this point, since she liked them so much anyway.

"What type of books do-?" he asked with some hesitation.

"Your uncle gave me this one about Fire Nation myths that I enjoyed," Katara answered slowly, "but I'll read anything that you can get. I don't mind." She was thankful he was agreeing to her request and would not push it by requesting something even slightly specific. Zuko nodded. That next morning she found a pile of three books on the table besides the furnishing where she slept.

The next few days passed the same as the previous ones. The prince seemed to have no use for her aside from keeping his room clean. After the first washing, keeping up with the routine was simple. She flew through the books that Zuko presented her with. The prince was never in his room during the day and only came back at night to sleep. It presented Katara with an opportunity, given she was growing more bored as each day passed.

The bathroom connected to Zuko's bedroom always had water; somehow, the Fire Nation engineers had invented a system to bring water up into a vat hidden in the ceiling. Once the lever was turned for the spout in the bath or the sink, gravity would bring the water down with no effort. It was always chilled, but Katara assumed that a land full of firebenders would not find that a big deal. The abundance of water in her new prison though, was almost a clear sign that she should practice. She did so with plenty of caution.

Katara ran through her old forms and attempted to copy what she had seen recently in The Arena. The movements of her fellow tribesman had been frantic and wild, but in her free time, she learned if she slowed down her arms and simply flexed her wrists more, her bending was more fluid and had better accuracy. Katara learned to enjoy cleaning the bathroom, since she could practice and make a mess without it being obvious.

After a week passed, Katara asked the prince for another set of books while she got ready to do the load of laundry. He had not had another outburst at her, and slowly she no longer felt a rush of nervous tension whenever he was in the same room as her. She was met with confusion.

"More?" he asked. "Already?"

"You haven't given me much to do," she said under her breath. Zuko looked around the room; she knew he would not tell her that she had done a good job, so she kept his silence as praise. He had not told her anything she had done wrong after the first set of instructions.

"Follow me," Zuko finally sighed. "Take that with you, it's on the way." Katara grabbed up the pile of clothing and followed the youngest prince out the door. She wondered where he could be showing her to. They moved down the corridor, took some turns, and stopped suddenly at another pair of double sliding doors. Zuko slid one door back, letting her look inside the room.

"This is my mother's library," he explained. "If you need more books, you can come here and pick them out yourself." Katara nodded as he shut the door, trying to keep her grin under control.

"Thank you," Katara bowed. She was sure she looked humorous with her arms full of laundry as she bowed. Zuko nodded and walked off, leaving her to do her work.

"Remember to put them back where you find them." He called down the hallway. She nodded, even though she knew he would not see.

The thought of being able to pick out her own books kept her going through the day. Unfortunately, she ran into trouble doing laundry, having to deal with other maids and servants hogging the basin and the lines.

She still did not understand why they treated her differently for simply being Water Tribe like they did. She was forced to wait for them to finish. She sat off to the side, listening to their conversations. Their situations were anywhere near her own. They were Fire Nation citizens, free people as she had once been in her own tribe, long before she could even remember. Once they completed their tasks they were done unless they were called on again. She was trapped here. She counted herself lucky to not know the horrors the others of her tribe had most likely been subject to. Her life in the palace though, proved to the young woman that she was not as free as she thought.

Finally, the other servants finished and let Katara on her way to complete her task. It was late when the clothing finally finished drying on the lines. She folded it and returned each piece to its proper drawer in Zuko's room before she even let herself think about the library. Before she came to the palace, she had only read Shiyu's books every now and then. She did not have the time to sit and enjoy story after story or legend after myth like she did now. If anything, the prince had shown her that she could escape her life through the stories she read, even if he had not meant to. The idea of being able to read each one of the books was slightly dizzying, and since the youngest prince did not seem to have much for her to do anyway, she would not need to be bored now.

Walking to the door, she noticed the book Iroh had given her sitting on the desk. She frowned and moved to retrieve it; Zuko had said to return all the books she took. Why would this one be any different? She scooped it up and left the room. Halfway to the library, Katara hesitated. The prince did say that this library belonged to his mother. She wondered if there was more than one room stocked with books and if this particular book belonged somewhere else instead. Katara was tempted to see if she could find its home, but realized she didn't know the palace well enough to even begin. She held onto the book as she reached the room and selected a handful of new ones. She made her way back to Zuko's bedroom soon after.

Before she turned the last corner she heard the door squeak. She paused and peered around the corner. The sun had already begun to set, so the shadows inside the palace threw many of the details into darkness. Katara still spotted the figure closing the door to Zuko's room and moving away. She shuddered before she saw the man turn into the light, as if checking the other hallway for witnesses; her heart immediately leaped when she realized who it was. She would have recognized that demon mask anywhere.

* * *

Dum dum DUM! Have my lovely readers figured out the mystery of the Blue Spirit yet? The reveal will happen shortly.

Sooo, while I know this is typical of any pairing story for any fanfic category (that the girl ends up living in the guy's room) I'm hoping things wont follow the pattern too closely that you'll all be bored... And I hope angry Prince Zuko wasn't too far out of character for all of you, since we've really never seen him interacting with Katara on his own before, and we didn't see what happened at the docks. Things will get better.

The chapter title comes from the lyrics of "Monster" by Meg and Dia


	12. Theres's No Turning Back From Here

**-Chapter 12- There's No Turning Back from Here  
**

"I learned years ago that I couldn't save everyone, but I hadn't been a healer then."

* * *

The Blue Spirit stealthily jogged down the hallway and turned a corner. Katara hesitated for only a moment before realizing this was probably the only chance she would ever get. She wanted to make sure he got her thanks; that he knew she was grateful for the compassion shown to her. The corridor was thankfully empty. It seemed that all the other servants had left the hallways clear; it was just the Blue Spirit and her. She came to a long, eerie room filled with columns, the northern wall hung with portraits of Fire Lords long past and spotted the Blue Spirit halfway down. She ran towards him and called out.

"Wait!" her voice echoed. The figure froze, then slowly turned to face her as she came to a halt. There was a good amount of space between them still, but Katara continued speaking. She almost did not want to get too close now that she had the chance.

"I wanted to thank you," she stated. "For saving my life." She bowed to him then.

"What?" she heard him mumble. Katara blinked and looked up, surprised. She had never heard the Blue Spirit speak before; he seemed to rely strictly on body language and hand signs whenever she encountered him before. Not only that, but his voice seemed familiar to her even though the pitch seemed off and the mask muffled some of it.

"You saved me, twice now," Katara clarified, not thinking she needed to. "I wanted to make sure you knew how grateful I was." She touched her chest over her heart as she spoke, stepping closer. Something seemed off about this encounter. The Blue Spirit glanced around the room and fidgeted in place. _Why was he nervous?_

"You're welcome," came his answer. Footsteps caused Katara to jump and turn to look behind her. Another servant hurried down the corridor on the crossing hallway but did not notice her. When she turned back, the man in the blue demon mask was gone. She sighed and returned to Zuko's room, thinking of the encounter as she set her new books on the table. The Blue Spirit was such a stoic figure in her mind; strong, fierce, and almost inhuman in his ability to appear where he did and when he was needed. This man, and he was a man simply judging by his voice, was not the same. She did not understand how that was possible and let her thoughts carry her into sleep.

...

When Katara awoke the next day, she found the prince's bed unused. While she sometimes went to bed before he returned at night, he was always there in the morning to give her new tasks. With nothing scheduled for the day, Katara made her way to the window before planning on reading one of her new books. She noticed the crowds outside The Arena, assuming it was the day of the fighting. She wondered if the Blue Spirit would be there today. She could not see inside the stadium from the window, so she made herself comfortable on the plush lounge with one of her books.

The day passed slowly.

Once late afternoon rolled around, Katara grew bored of her book on the origins of bending. She enjoyed it at first, learning where each element drew its strength from, where bending was first learned, and the spirituality of it all, but the second half of the book began to go into great depth about different stances and forms. After reading all the waterbendering information and some of the firebending stuff, she was distracted.

The roar of the crowd echoed up to the room then. She assumed the nobles were up now, fighting for fame or money or honor in The Arena. Katara tried to picture the fight that could get such a reaction from the crowd. It had to be one on more than two at least. She assumed that the main fighter had taken out one if not two of the opponents without bending and was now struggling to defeat the final opponent.

In her mind's eye, she pictured the Blue Spirit against the remaining bender, a waterbender. She pulled stances from the book into her daydream, playing out the drawn-out battle where the Blue Spirit emerged victorious with only the dual blades he carried on his back. The cheering crowds pulled Katara back to the present; she assumed the nobleman won his match, but she was curious if the fighters survived it. She had only injured the bender in her mind; she did not have the heart to kill even the imagined enemy off on purpose.

Katara stood and moved to the bathroom, ready to move from imagined bending to the real thing. She had not had the chance to 'clean' the bathroom yesterday, and after reading all the new forms in the book, she was eager to experiment. She made sure to shut and lock the door in case the prince decided to return. If he did return early though, the lock would do little to keep him out since all it took was a strong push to dislodge the bolt. It was only to give her a few seconds to drop the water, if it came to that

She began without her element, stepping through the forms to something called the water whip and the water bomb. Both were similar, the only difference being the shape the water took once manipulated. She tested the 'bomb' first. The sphere of water hovered between her hands until she launched it into the raised tub where it exploded upon impact with a great splash. It brought back fuzzy memories of snowball fights in the South Pole with her brother and the other children.

She moved on then, struggling to master the whip. Katara did not remember how much time passed as she worked in the bathroom on her bending. The only thing she knew was that it was nearly dark by the time the door to Zuko's bedroom was opened. She dropped her nearly perfect whip into the tub, collected all the water that dotted the walls, and opened the bathroom door before the prince could find it locked. She stepped into the room, trying not to look like she had just spent hours waterbending and gasped. Zuko looked up at her from where he rested on the floor, leaning against his bed; his face could not hide the pained expression no matter how he tried.

"Are you ok?" she asked, hurrying to his side. She noticed the ordinary brown robe thrown over his unusual black clothing and moved to untie it. "What happened to you?" Zuko cringed when she lifted the cloak, wincing in pain. She saw the reasons and nearly passed out herself.

"You need a doctor, Prince Zuko," Katara said, voice shaking as she spoke. "Tell me where the palace medic lives, I'll go get him." She stood but did not get very far. Zuko's hand, the one not pressed to an open wound hastily bound on his thigh, gripped her own and kept her from leaving.

"No," he breathed. His voice was strained. Katara easily pulled her hand from his grip. She no longer feared his anger at her refusal to obey, not now; she was too busy thinking about how to save his life at this point. He was in bad shape. She told him as such.

"You're badly injured Prince Zuko, you need help," she stated. She would not panic, even if she had to search the palace with no help, she would make sure he was ok.

"He can't know," the prince tried to explain.

"Who?" Katara asked. She knelt beside him and began examining what needed to be done. The bloody wound on his thigh was worrisome. The white bandage was completely seeped through with his crimson blood.

"The doctor," he added and then took a breath and let his eyes stay closed for a second. "Everyone. _No one_ can know." Katara wondered if he had suffered a head injury as well. She noticed the burn running across his neck and down his shoulder then. One of his ankles seemed larger than the other as well, but it didn't look broken. Whoever did this had gotten him good. Katara wondered if she would be able to lift him and quickly decided against it. She knew his strength, and if he did not want to go, he would fight her every step of the way, even as injured as he was. Katara stood, pushed away the hand that tried to keep her from walking away again and moved to the bathroom. She returned with an armful of thick towels and a small jug of water that had until recently been home to a bunch of white irises.

"What happened, Prince Zuko?" Katara questioned. She folded one towel and placed it under his bandaged thigh before she began unwrapping the bound wound. The prince remained silent as she worked. Katara let him ignore her question until she got to the actual injury. Fresh blood flowed once she pulled the bandage free, tearing the new scabbed edges open. She grabbed for a towel and pressed it to the wound. She knew pressure alone would do nothing for an injury this deep. If she had been with Shiyu, he would have stitched it shut and let it heal that way. But she was not with Shiyu.

"Prince Zuko," Katara repeated. She waited until his glazed eyes met her own. "You need to see a doctor, either the palace medic or Shiyu. These wounds are serious. You're going to bleed out. You've lost so much blood already, I'm sure." She wet a towel and placed it over his brow once she felt his forehead and noticed the fever. The rest of his skin felt cold as ice. His body was struggling.

"No," Zuko sighed. "They'll know who I am. The injuries would be the same." Katara was beginning to lose her cool. She knew he would die without medical attention. His eyes rolled up for a second, but he seemed to catch himself before he passed out.

"No one can know it was me," he mumbled. "Lu Ten… so disappointed." He closed his eyes completely and Katara looked to the now red towel she still pressed to his thigh. His pants were stained red around where she had torn the black fabric further to get to the skin and his breathing was shallow and quick. She realized that even if she got a doctor to him at this point, he probably would not make it. There was only one thing she could see saving his life. Her heart raced just thinking about it.

She closed her eyes and sent a panicked prayer to Tui and La before reaching for the water. She let it glow around her fingers since no one was watching and worked to knit the flesh closed and stop the bleeding. She needed to stop twice to change the water and switch out the towel she had used to try and bring down his fever. The room was dark now, lit by only the glowing water.

She finally ran out of energy to keep going. The wound was nothing more than a shallow cut by then, sparsely bleeding. Katara steadied herself with several deep breaths before standing and lighting the candles in the room.

She eased Zuko down beside this bed now that she knew he was ok to move again, pulling the covers off and settling a pillow under his head. She tore a towel into smaller pieces, which was easier said then done, and used the strips to wrap the healing cut on his leg. She used another wet towel to lay across the burn on his neck and shoulder. She had to peel back what was left of the fabric of the black shirt he wore, since it hung in burned tatters, but she uncovered the entire burn quickly. Finally, she propped up his swollen foot on the remaining pillows and wrapped a cool towel around it, shoe and all. Surveying her work, Katara recalled she needed to eat her evening meal still; it would help to regain her strength. She left the room to head toward the servants' entrance to the kitchen.

It was not too unreasonably late, but no one ran into her on her way there, back, or as she grabbed a hunk of bread and some pieces of cooked meat. She entered the bedroom and found Zuko awake, or she figured, at least conscious. She could not be sure how long she had sat over his injury to stop the bleeding; she guessed an hour or so, maybe more. His eyes were not completely focused, but they were open and followed her as she moved across the room.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. She nibbled at the cheese and put her hand out to check his fever. She only then noticed the blood on her clothing. At first, she was curious why her hands were clean but came to the realization that the healing water kept them blood free.

"Dizzy," he finally answered. Katara offered him a sip of water from the small cup she had filled, helping him sit up slightly.

"You lost a lot of blood Prince Zuko," Katara explained. "You'll need to rest in order to recover. I did what I could but-" a flash of panic went through his eyes.

"You didn't tell the doctor did you?" he asked. He grabbed Katara's shoulder, but his grip was too weak to do any harm. She sighed and pushed his hand free. He immediately went for the wound on his leg.

"No! It's still healing!" Katara panicked. She fumbled to stop him, but the prince managed to pushed the towels aside and saw what remained of the injury.

"How?" he stuttered, staring the wound. The deep gash looked nothing like it used to. Now, only a thin line of red remained. The skin around it was tender and new, but at least it was not gushing blood anymore. He reached to touch the burn on his shoulder, but Katara caught his hand.

"Don't touch it," she ordered. "I didn't have time to fix your burn. I had to stop the bleeding. Why won't you go to the see the palace doctor?" Katara asked as she released his hand, realizing she still gripped it in her own. She offered him another sip of water, which he gladly accepted before laying back down.

"How did you fix me without stitches?" Zuko questioned as he stared at the ceiling.

"You answer my question first," Katara stated. She would not be left in the dark on this one. While he explained himself, she could think of a miracle excuse.

"I want to know how you got so injured and why you refused to see a real doctor," she repeated.

"You did a better job-" he began.

"Stop avoiding the question," Katara snapped. She watched as he fought with himself over the answer; she peeled the wet towel off his burn, careful not to break the skin and replaced it with a new one soaked in fresh cool water.

"Will you promise to tell me how you did it? Truthfully?" Zuko asked. Now it was her turn to pause and consider the consequences, would he pass judgment on her even after she had just saved his life? Was her question worth the risk?

"Yes," Katara nodded. She knelt beside him, rearranged the bandage on his leg and turned to listen.

"I was in The Arena," Zuko started. "That was where I got these injuries." Katara nodded, that explained the black clothing that she had never seen him wear before.

"So why not see a doctor?"

"I was in a mask," Zuko explained. "No one can know it was me. If I went to any medic to receive help, they would know I was the one under the mask. And I'd have to take the mask off to get this burn treated." He pointed to the burn running up his neck and slightly along his jawline.

"Why is that so important? Why can't they know?" she asked.

-Silence-

"I fought as the Blue Spirit," Zuko admitted finally. Katara jumped backwards at his admission, catching herself on one hand.

"_You're_ the Blue Spirit?" she nearly shouted. She shook her head as her hand covered her mouth in shock. She could not believe it; it just was _not_ possible. The Blue Spirit she remembered had been a man when she was just a child. She knew the prince was not much older than she was.

"You can't be," she mumbled. "The Blue Spirit has been fighting in The Arena for more than ten years."

"That was Lu Ten," Zuko explained. "We've been switching off for the last few years."

"And you were the Blue Spirit last night?" she asked. "You were the one I ran into."

"Yes," Zuko answered.

"I knew something was different," Katara admitted. "The Blue Sprit I knew never said a word, and he held himself a different way. I just wanted to thank him. To let him know I appreciated the second chance he gave me."

"How did Lu Ten save your life?" asked Zuko. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing deep even breaths. She knew the breath had something to do with firebending and one's inner energy, but did not think much more on it. Katara was content to tell him her story, maybe he would forget about his own question.

"I was kidnapped in the middle of the night from Shiyu recently, and the Blue Spirit stole me back. That's why I ended up with Prince Iroh. And years before that, the Blue Spirit was the one who brought me to Shiyu when I was little. I don't remember much, but I know that if he had left me alone, I would have died. I was starving, alone, and sick when he found me. I owe him my life." Katara said and bowed her head slightly. She asked,

"Why were you taking his place today?" The prince turned to her, watching as she shifted to check on his wounds once more.

"He didn't want anyone catching on that the Blue Spirit was him. He simply wanted to practice swordplay without anyone knowing it was him. One day, when he got sick and was supposed to fight, I offered to fill in for him. That way, the Blue Spirit can fight and one of us is always in the audience. It helps that we don't firebend as the Blue Spirit as well. But he wanted to be sure that the Blue Spirit fought while he was away." Zuko let out a deep breath, closed his eyes for moment.

"Now," he said. "I've answered your question. It's your turn. How did you do this if you didn't get the palace doctor?" Katara bowed her head and twirled her fingers.

"The same way I healed you after the Agni Kai in The Arena," she replied. When he gave her the look to elaborate, she did. "With waterbending." She braced herself. Katara watched the prince's eyes narrow. He did not try to jump up and call for the palace guards or anything that would have her arrested immediately and brought down to The Arena.

"I didn't know waterbenders could heal," he finally said. She could hear the disbelief in his voice. The tendons in his neck were strained; he was trying his best not to show his nervousness. She wondered if he thought she was going to attack him; did he not know that if she wanted to hurt him she would have done it while he was unconscious?

"Neither did I," Katara admitted. She hoped she could calm him back down. "It was an accident that I discovered I was able to heal."

"You know that by admitting you're a bender, you should be sent down to The Arena right?" the prince stated, questioning her reasoning. Katara nodded in defeat. She expected this.

"Then why did you do it?"

"I promised I would," Katara replied slowly. "You told me your secret, one you were willing to die for to keep safe, and I gave you mine." Zuko nodded, looked down at his leg and then back to the girl who sat sullen before him. She had no tears to shed, it had been her own choice to admit it; she knew what she was getting into, but it was still hard.

"I'll make you a deal, Katara," Zuko stated. He tried to sit up and winced as he flexed his burned skin. She moved closer and helped him lean back up against the bed so he could at least sit eye level with her.

"If you can heal me so that no one can tell I was injured, I won't tell anyone that you're a bender," Zuko stated. Katara paused, shocked.

"W-What?" she stuttered.

"I need to be able to move and bend tomorrow for the summer solstice," Zuko explained. "If you can heal me so no one knows, then I'll keep your bending a secret as thanks." Katara looked over the wounds again and nodded. It was a daunting challenge.

"Ok," she said. "You have a deal Prince Zuko." Katara stood, refilled the water, and rewet the towels. She began with his ankle. In the time it had taken to regain her strength, the swelling had gone down slightly on its own. Proper elevation and the cooling towels had done their work. She eased his shoe open just enough to get to his ankle, dipped her hand into the water and applied the glowing liquid. Zuko watched the water stick to her hand and then his ankle; it was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was like a paste that felt fresh and cool. He remembered the tingling sensation from her healing him before. She did a good job of covering it up back then. The glowing was new though, he did not seem to recall that. Katara poked the swollen ankle as she worked, judging the effectiveness of her healing. When the water soaked into his flesh completely, Zuko attempted to move his foot, wringing his toes.

"How does it feel?" she asked.

"The throbbing is gone," he said in awe.

"Good," Katara nodded. She pulled the shoe off completely and wrapped his ankle in a cool towel.

"The swelling has to go down on its own now," she explained. Zuko seemed to understand, even as he rotated his ankle back and forth, testing its mobility. Katara removed his other shoe and made sure the pillows under the one foot were properly fluffed. Looking away from his feet, Katara turned to tackle the burn. She would not lie to herself, it was pleasant sitting with him without worrying about doing something wrong. She was literarily in her element.

"I didn't know you could fight other firebenders in The Arena without it being an Agni Kai," she stated. Katara helped him out of the black shirt, which she know recognized as the clothing the Blue Spirit wore. It made sense that she had not placed it before. Most of his clothing was ripped to shreds or burned through. Now, the injury left behind had her cringing when she saw the burn's full extent. It began just above his jawline on the right, the side without the scar, and fanned down his shoulder into his chest. The skin was puckered and angry. It had most likely been a close range hit.

"It's unusual for the challengers to want face each other instead of one of the fighters," Zuko explained. Katara called fresh water to her hands and laid them on his chest to begin her work as he explained.

"There were three of us there today," he said. "The moment the younger of the two men saw my mask, he offered to face me instead. I agreed, thinking it would be an easy win. He looked untrained with the weapon he had been holding. I didn't realize that he was a bender as well." Katara was curious how the prince could beat the Admiral in an Agni Kai, but lose so badly to a civilian bender. She focused on his neck and collarbone next, careful to keep the healing consistent. She felt her strength fading more quickly than before. It was obvious she was tired, but she did not mind. These were moments of peace she would savor.

"That explains the burn," Katara added. "What about the gash?"

"It was a bad fight," Zuko sighed. He looked down to watch her heal his chest. She wondered absentmindedly if he could feel her fingertips through the tingling of the cool water.

"Did you win?" Katara asked.

"Eventually," Zuko nodded. I got a lucky shot in and knocked him hard on the head with my sword hilt. Not before he caught me off balance enough to twist my ankle and stab me with the curved spear he had though. I truthfully wasn't expecting firebending either. The Blue Spirit only has short range attacks to work with." She let him talk as she finished off the burn. Katara knew how to heal burns and it took much less time than the gash in his leg. As her strength and the water ran out, she let her hands fall against his warm skin, catching her breath. It was not until she felt the deep rumbling when Zuko spoke that she realized her hands were still touching him.

"Where did you get those?" he asked, reaching to capture her hand, examining her wrist. The burns were almost gone by now, healed the natural way. Katara looked away; luckily Zuko seemed to put the pieces together on his own.

"Why didn't you heal yourself?" he asked. Katara did not expect him to apologize for his actions and she was not disappointed.

"The other servant who showed me where to do the laundry saw them before I had a chance," Katara answered truthfully. She added, "but they were also a reminder to myself." Zuko said nothing and dropped her hand; he touched where his burn had been. Finding naught but new soft skin, he looked to the gash. The pink line was all that remained. Katara watched him stand without assistance, looking up from her position kneeling on the ground.

"You should rest," she stated. "Your body still thinks its injured and you lost a lot of blood. You should let your fever fall on its own as well." She doubted the prince would keep his promise; he stood tall now, as if nothing happened. He was once again the man who could overpower her if need be, no longer the weak helpless prince who needed her to save his life. She watched as he touched each injury and found no pain, no proof of their existence.

"You did it," he finally said. "They'll never know it was me."

"Who?" Katara asked. She stood and moved to remake the bed. The girl was ready to pass out but pushed through it.

"Tomorrow is the Sumer Solstice festival," Zuko explained. "The throne room and the main hall are open to the public and that's the area where the main firebending performance will be held. My sister and I were called upon by the fire sages to do the bending tribute this year. It's a great honor, one I would have had to find a way out of it I had been injured." Katara understood now why he wanted everything to be a secret.

"Which means I'll keep my end of the deal, Katara," Zuko added. "No one will know about you being a bender except for me."

"Thank you," Katara bowed. She watched the prince snuff out the candles she had lit with a wave of his hand, and she put the remaining water and towels back into the bathroom. When she returned, the prince was already getting into bed. She followed suit, snuggling into the couch and falling asleep as soon as her eyes closed.

* * *

Shorter chapter, but lots of little Zutara-y moments.

And thus, you all know the identity of the Blue Spirit. I'm so proud of how many of you guessed correctly that it was Lu Ten at the beginning. :) Yay!

Summer Solstice next chapter: Fire Nation festival time! Sounds fun right?

The title of this chapter comes from the lyrics to the song 'Stand My Ground' by Evanescence.


	13. Tell Me Why

**-Chapter 13- Tell Me Why  
**

"Somehow, I feel I missed an important lesson about the motives of men."

* * *

The sun had not even risen the next morning when Katara was woken by loud gongs outside. She noticed Zuko quickly sit up in bed, then throw his legs over the side, and stumble to his dresser. He changed into a silk outfit of many reds, the designs chased with gold embroidery, and hurried from the room without even glancing her way. Katara rolled onto her side, happy that he did not appear to be limping and that the swelling in his ankle had gone down. He seemed to be in perfect shape once more.

The youngest prince was gone long enough for the sun to rise over the edge of the volcano the city sat in and begin to peek into the room. Katara stretched once she woke the second time, hoping she would not be too stiff from sitting so long in her single position healing the prince the previous night. She still had a hard time believing that he would break laws to keep his promise, but she was thankful all the same. The watertribe girl made her way to her single drawer in the dresser to change clothes. She had just finished tying the underclothing that supported her chest when the door was flung open. She spun to find the prince staring, obviously not expecting what he walked in on. He spotted her state of undress and tried not to turn bright red. She was unfazed; everything was covered. Katara held the shirt she had just taken off to her chest and noticed Zuko seemed to relax some.

"Everything go ok at the festival?" Katara asked.

"No," Zuko replied. "It hasn't fully started yet. I need you to get dressed. What are the best robes you have?" He came closer as she pulled out each item of clothing Iroh had given her.

"These," Zuko pointed. "Put these on. Hurry!" Katara pulled on the long maroon tunic and silken pants that she had worn to the arena when her fellow tribesman was killed and tied the yellow sash around her waist. She refused to let the memory taint the beautiful clothing, but it was difficult. Zuko waited impatiently as she smoothed the extra fabric around her shoulders, and he frowned slightly when she finished.

"What?" she questioned, trying to look in the reflecting glass in the set onto the side of the dresser.

"The dragons on your collar," Zuko explained. "They show you belong to my uncle. If you mess up or someone asks about you, it goes straight back to him."

"So each prince has an animal they sew onto their servants' clothing?" Katara asked. Zuko nodded, seemed to decide it was ok for the time being and pulled her out of the room by her left wrist.

"Wait!" she squeaked, surprised when he dragged her off. "Where are we going?" She would have loved to ask more about the animals, but realized now probably was not the time for that.

"Two of my father's servants fell ill last night and can't work today. We're already understaffed since Uncle doesn't to keep any himself. So you get to help out." Zuko explained as he pulled her down new hallways to the front of the palace.

"But-" Katara stuttered.

"All you'll be doing is refilling glasses. It's like refilling uncle's teacup, except _everyone_ has a glass," he stated. Zuko stopped outside a set of curtains, peeked through them, and called to a tall thin man dressed in similar robes to Katara, save they were cut for a man. She noticed the hawk embroidery on his collar and thought about asking Zuko who's symbol it was. She decided against it.

"I brought you someone to help with serving in the main room," Zuko explained to the man.

"Of course, Prince Zuko," the servant bowed. "Thank you for your consideration." Zuko nodded in response, gave Katara a once over, and then a hard stare. She was not quite sure what he wanted, so she bowed. When she lifted her head, she noticed he had vanished, leaving her and the man alone.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Katara," she replied. She thought him to be maybe in his 50's. His salt and pepper hair and graying mustache gave some of his age away, but he stood straight and proud and his brown eyes still held much youth in them.

"Kah-tara, I trust you know how to fill drinks correct?" the man asked. He seemed un-phased by the strange pronunciation of her name. She took it in stride; at least he was not giving her dirty looks for simply being from the Water Tribe.

"Yes," she answered.

"Good," the man stated. "There are pitchers of tea wine in this storage room here." He pointed to the door nearby. "The wine is in the jugs marked with red. Those come out now until the performance is over. Once the benders do the Salute to the Sun, then you'll serve the fire whiskey for the rest of the day. Those are marked in yellow. Understood?"

"Yes," Katara nodded.

"Good," the man grinned. "If anything goes wrong or if you need more of anything, you come to me. My name is Stahn, I'm in charge of the event today. The others know where I'll be if you need help." Katara nodded and watched him disappear back through the curtains. She pushed one aside and took a quick look. The grandeur of the room took her breath away.

The open room was two stories tall around the edges and three in the center. Balconies looked over the edges of the room, supported by pillars of black marble. All the stone was polished to a high gloss, though most of it was hung with decorative curtains in browns and golds. The screen she hid behind was on the side of the room, almost tucked up in the far corner from the main door. An ornate throne which looked like it had not been used for much of anything in many decades sat nearby on the southern wall. It was raised up on a dais, surrounded by low burning flames. The space was huge.

The room was mostly empty save for a few servants, dressed in almost the same clothing as her, putting the finishing touches on the table décor and food arrangement. The far end held the grand entryway, through which Katara assumed the guests would be entering later on.

She closed the curtain and walked to the room where the pitchers were stored. Katara found the jugs of tea wine, pausing for a second to wonder what the liquid actually was. She knew what tea was, but wine was something else entirely. The young girl was not about to sample it, but that did not mean she was above catching a whiff of the beverage as she poured it from its storage jug into the serving pitcher. It smelled of spiced cherries as well as hot brewed tea, though it was served cold.

Katara entered the large room with her full pitcher just as the great door opened. Other servants stood straighter, ready with cups, food, and beverages as the mass of people entered.

Watching the other servants begin to move around the room into more strategic positions, Katara wondered when the only event she knew of would begin. Since this was the capital of the Fire Nation, she expected nothing short of grandiose for the summer solstice. To her own people, the winter solstice had been the main feast day. While it was not as elaborate as this, back at home it had been a day filled with laughter and ample foods. The crowd moved deeper into the room; the people never seemed to end.

"Tea wine sir?" Katara offered the first group of men she came to. The closest man nodded and held out his cup to her. Ignoring her, the other men in the group held out their glasses slightly when she approached. When all their glasses where filled, she moved off, making her way across the room.

Men, women, and even children milled around the main room, gossiping with one another. Katara noticed as she filled glasses that the crowd seemed to be made up of citizens from all social and economic levels. The nobles were easy to spot with their finely decorated dresses and tunics and even finer jewelry. Katara was surprised to see the lower-class of citizens present in the palace. While they were not dressed in rags, their clothing was faded and worn in spots. There appeared to be an even distribution of each social class in the room, all scattered about.

Katara returned to the room after fetching a new pitcher and walked past two other serving girls. They stayed together, weaving through the crowd. Katara watched as one of them stopped to pour water into a child's cup while her partner refilled his parents' glasses with tea wine. They seemed to have a good system going. It soon became clear, the more she looked to the other servants, that they were all partnered up. She was the odd one out. Though, she did wonder if they stayed together for any reason other then serving two different drinks.

After switching out pitchers twice more, the crowd began to part. Katara finished pouring a man's drink and then followed the other servants to the back of the main room when she saw them move in that direction out of the corner of her eye. She spotted Stahn leading them out through the curtain through which they had entered.

"The Salute to the Sun dance is about to begin," he explained to the group of twenty or so servants. "After the Fire Lord enters, everyone with tea wine will take it to the table on the far side of the room." He tapped a man and woman on the shoulder near the front. "You two will keep serving it to the guests until we run out." He seemed to do a mental count of the pitchers still remaining and nodded twice to himself. "If you were serving tea wine, come back here to get the fire whiskery when you're finished." Katara nodded along with the others and waited until she was cleared to go. When the procession of servants reentered the room, someone was speaking to the crowd.

"-of the summer solstice," he announced. The crowd cheered, hardly noticing the servants slipping between people on their way to the opposite corner of the room.

"As is tradition, the salute to the sun will be performed when the sun reaches its zenith!" he declared. Katara paused to see who was speaking and moved between two guests. A man dressed completely in red with a strange hat and wide shoulder pieces addressed the crowd once more; Katara hurried to catch up to the others. She assumed he was one of the Fire Sages the prince had been talking about.

"This year, after much anticipation, our very own Prince Zuko and Princess Azula will be performing for us." The crowd buzzed with excitement. Somewhere, music began to play; a single sungi horn accompanied by some stringed instrument filled the air. Waiting to put the pitcher with the others behind the table, Katara searched the room for the instruments. Instead, she spotted the dancers.

The crowd cleared out the center more, pressing up into the corners of the room and around the pillars to see. Katara noticed most of the nobles and other finely dressed guests had moved upstairs to watch from the balconies. From above them on the southern wall, a great shaft of sunlight burst forth. She wondered if someone had opened the curtains on a large window. The other servants paused in their movements as well to watch, almost transfixed. Katara left the pitcher of tea wine at the table and scoped out a good sport to watch. A nearby pillar just behind the bulk of the crowd was the perfect spot. She stepped up onto the column's base and could clearly see over everyone's heads while gripping the marble to keep her balance.

The music seemed to dictate the dance, _or was the music just adding to it_? Either way, the siblings moved in perfect time to the rhythm. Both dancers were dressed in pure white with gold edging. Katara would not have been surprised if it was actual gold stitched in place. They would have stood out even without being so different from the other guests color-wise though. The prince wore only a pair of loose pants, bound tight at his ankles, a long sash tied at his hips. The princess was dressed in similar pants and a midriff bearing halter tied top. Katara realized this was why Zuko had been so worried about the burn. He was completely exposed; people would ask too many questions. For as much skin as both of them showed however, the outfits were not revealing. They were ceremonial; meant to show the lithe, toned bodies of the chosen benders. Katara found herself staring.

Belong them, standing just before the flames of the raised dais with the throne, Katara spotted the woman whom she remembered from lunch with Iroh and the man next to her, Zuko's parents. Above the two of them, surrounded by constant flames, she saw the ancient Fire Lord, Azulon. His gaze was focused on the two dancers, his youngest grandchildren. It seemed he had a permanent frown etched onto his face. Katara shuddered and turned back to watch the rest of the dance.

The prince and princess faced each other, slowly mirroring the other's form and sliding into the next one seamlessly. The first burst of flame came from Zuko. It echoed out from his left foot along the ground like a shock wave, stopping inches from the crowd. Azula followed suit, her own blue flames surprising Katara. She heard some of the crowd's reaction as well. It seemed positive, though Katara was not sure how firebending could be blue.

The siblings moved through several more stances; each time, their flames growing larger, extending farther. The dance was well choreographed, the elements of the firebending blended well with the more theatrical movements. After several minutes the music speed up and Zuko and Azula stood once again facing each other in the center of the beam of sunlight. They both fell into a crouch, right legs extended forward and sent a steady stream of fire at the center between them.

The two flames mixed, spiraling upward and spreading slowly. Katara noticed that the blue fire eventually turned back to oranges the longer it lived, just as normal fire died a deep red color instead of its usually brilliant yellow. She figured it had something to do with the temperature of the flames and force behind them. Katara had to stop herself from wondering about how burns could be different if the prince verses the princess was behind them and watched them both step closer to each other.

The flames kept coming until they both bent at the knee, just feet from each other, and lifted the spiral of flames from the ground. Katara watched in awe as the fire bunched into a giant swirling sphere.

Together, the siblings lifted it above their heads and turned to stand back to back. They held it there for a long moment, letting the crowd marvel at the magnitude of the fireball. It reminded Katara of the sun in the sky. Then, Zuko and Azula fell to the ground in a deep bow, foreheads pressed to the ground. Katara pressed her hand to her open mouth, stopping her gasp from escaping. The flaming miniature sun hung in the air above them for a long moment until it appeared gravity finally took hold of it and the flames dropped. The fire seemed to splash over the ground and the two bowing dancers like a drop of molten water, rolling back into the air and then fading to wisps. Once the flames were gone, the prince and princess were already up and facing the firelord.

The crowd went wild, cheering and clapping after the grand performance. Zuko and Azula bowed to the Firelord, then turned and left the great room through the main doors. As they exited, the fire sage came out and began speaking. Katara only then realized that the rest of the servants had made it back to the curtain already. She hurried over to them, trying not to draw attention to herself by running.

"-excellent performance by Prince Zuko and Princess Azula. Now the festival of the summer solstice can begin!" the fire sage called. Katara slipped through the curtain as the crowd cheered once more.

Stahn handed her a pitcher, noticing that she had just appeared. She tried not to look guilty; she truthfully had not noticed the rest of the servants file out, assuming they were all still watching like her. The servant said nothing, though his eyes seemed to show understanding. Maybe he knew the effect the salute had on new servants. Katara did not think too much about it; she returned to the room to resume her task.

Zuko and his sister returned shortly after, each in normal clothing once more. Zuko was back in the outfit she had seen him change into that morning. He held a cup, but even from the distance, she could tell it was unfilled. The room had emptied some, so it made traversing it easier. Most of the lower-class citizens were in the process of vacating the room; leaving it filled with nobles and the better dressed citizens. A few feet away from the prince, Katara noticed his mother approach him and the princess. She hung back, filling a nearby man's cup instead as she watched the interaction. The man paid her more attention than most, but Katara was not focused on him or his wandering eyes. While her outfit _was_ designed for a woman, it was not revealing or unusual at all, so she did not see the point in his stares.

The woman put her hands on Zuko's shoulders, smiling warmly as she spoke a few words Katara was not close enough to hear, but she understood they were positive. When their mother moved to Azula, the princess simply seemed to tolerate the congrats. Zuko looked around, spotted Katara, and eyed the pitcher in her hand. She continued her path to where the three of them were standing. She began to fill Zuko's cup when a man approached the group, standing near the woman. Katara finished pouring the drink, chanced a quick glance upward to see who towered over them and only then noticed his cup slightly stretched in her direction, as if it was too much work to truly show he wanted her to fill it. Annoyed, Katara poured the beverage without complaint.

"What did _you_ think of the performance Father? Mom already-" Azula said before Ozai interrupted her.

"You did well, Azula," he said. He turned to the youngest prince and nodded as well. "It was a good performance. One people will talk about for many years to come." Katara finished pouring the cup and turned to leave but was halted when Ozai spoke.

"Wait girl," he ordered. "Aren't you Iroh's tea servant?" Katara turned back to him, glancing once at Zuko.

"Yes my lord," she replied. She kept her blue eyes on his well shod feet. While Zuko and herself seemed to have reached an understanding, she recalled his original lessons on acting like a proper servant. His father did not seem like a man to be trifled with. She did not wish to be screamed at like the servant at lunch a few days back. If she did not know any better, she would have assumed he was the reason Zuko acted like he did with her at first. It would make sense, you only know what you are taught or learn yourself.

"Why didn't my brother take you with him?" Ozai questioned. Katara lost her voice for a moment; she wondered why it mattered to him why she was here and not there. It was not like she was his to command.

"Master Iroh," she began to say, her hands tightening around the jug, "left me here to complete a number of tasks before his return."

"Why?" Prince Ozai questioned.

"I am not sure," Katara spoke, her voice shaking. "It's not a servant's role to question her master." The man opened his mouth to say more, but was interrupted.

"Ozai," the woman said gently, putting a hand on her husband's arm. She offered a small smile in Katara's direction before turning back to her husband. "She's Iroh's servant. She still wears his insignia. Leave your brother to his business. He does the same for you." Katara could feel Ozai's eyes run over her for a moment more before he put the Fire Whiskey to his lips and drank. He walked away with Ursa, not a backward glance to be spared. Katara stood rooted to her spot on the floor, focusing on her pounding heart rate. Finally after what felt like hours, but was probably only seconds, Katara turned and searched for more glasses to fill. Before she got too far, she heard the princess speak.

"Well Zuko, that's probably the most excitement that will happen all day." She heard her footsteps on the floor.

"Where are you going?" he asked. Katara walked out of range. Her deep steadying breaths did their job, and she returned to filling empty cups without mishap.

Time moved slowly. She noticed that she filled less cups then before when she held the tea wine. Maybe it was the strength of the brew; the smell itself was enough to give her a small headache and burn her nose if she breathed in too sharp.

She did notice that one man, a noble dressed in silk robes of burnt orange with silver embroidery along all the edges, came to her several times within the hour to have his cup refilled. She watched him stumble back to his friends and laugh loudly, spilling some of the liquid as he went.

Drunkenness was new to Katara. She quickly figured out that the drinks the other servants and herself served were the cause of it when she passed a group of gossiping women. Streaks of grey lined their otherwise black hair.

"It seems the fire whiskey is potent this year," one snorted, "but you know what they say about the harvest every 7th year."

"It kicks every man's bum to the floor," another woman cackled, "and some of the boys as well when they sneak it behind their mother's backs."

"When will they learn to moderate their drinking?"

"You expect men to learn. How preposterous!"

"As long as no fights break out by the temple this year-"

"I agree," the last woman nodded. "They should know when they've had enough and head to bed. Fire whiskey is especially bad for their self-control. Do you remember-?" Katara walked passed them, pouring the last of her pitcher into a younger man's cup. He seemed her age, maybe younger; his lopsided smile was amusing as he tried to focus his eyes on the cup. Katara headed back to the curtain to fetch a new pitcher of the drink. She wondered if anyone had thought about cutting off guests who were obviously struggling to even stand. So far, she had only seen one of them that badly effected, but the other symptoms of the drink were making themselves just as clear. There was no way she would not serve anyone, since it was her job to keep the cups filled.

She moved into the quiet of the hall, only then realizing how deafening the crowd's voices had become. She was sure they had not been this loud to start with. Taking a moment to herself, Katara closed her eyes and set the empty pitcher down. A few breaths were all she got before the curtain swished opened and closed again. The change of volume woke her from her self-imposed break. She turned and saw the man who was out-drinking everyone else at the festival.

"Sir," she called, not quite sure how to deal with an errant guest. "The festivities are back in the main room. I'll be right back to get you another drink. Please go back inside with the other guests. This area is off limits."

Expecting him to follow her request, Katara pulled open the door to the storage room. A hand pressed it shut with a thud, appearing over her shoulder. As she looked up to the same man, now inches from her, she felt his other hand rest on her hip. She moved to push it away.

"But you're out here," he smiled. She could smell the alcohol from the fire whiskey on his breath and crinkled her nose in disgust. "I want to be out here with you."

"Sir," Katara began. The man pressed her hips against the door, causing it to rock on its hinges and bang against the frame. With the hand he had slammed the door shut with, he ran his fingers through her hair. He stepped closer, pressing her up against the wall.

"Stop it," Katara ordered. She tried to push his hands away and step free of the unwanted embrace. The guest frowned, swayed in place, and moved his hand from her hairline, which hung mostly lose except for the front most pieces which she tied in a small bun in the back. His fingers touched her jaw; Katara shivered.

"You've been serving me, making me happy all day, my dear," he smiled. "But there's a better way you can serve me." Katara struggled and he caught her hands in his own, pressed their bodies together, and planted his lips over hers. The water tribe girl froze at the new sensation. She tried to force her head back and away from him, but only succeeded in banging it against the door. The taste of fire whiskey numbed her lips. Her heartbeat pounded in her chest. Pressed up against her, she was sure he could feel the hammering.

The entire length of their bodies touched, her sandwiched between the wall and this older nobleman. He bit her lower lip and sucked with more force than she thought necessary, but it gave her a chance to call out. The man gripped her wrists tighter and growled, covering her mouth once more. His tongue flicked across her teeth as his hips pressed squarely up against her own.

Then, Katara felt movement near her hip even though his hands were wrapped around her own. Her blue eyes glanced up and down the hallway through the man's black hair, hoping one of the other servants would come out and save her. The jug beside her was empty and there were no puddles to bend in the palace. She screamed into his kiss and felt the hardness against her stomach shift again.

In all her life, Katara could never remember feeling so helpless then these few seemingly unrelated instances when she had been cornered. She would risk bending to get free, but the lack of water made it a useless choice. What made her situation worse, was that she had no idea what drove this man. If she had done something to bring this on, she wanted to know so she could avoid doing it again. Understanding he was drunk was one thing, but choosing to press her up against a wall and kiss her was the confusing part. It was a similar situation to when the two guards found her alone in the city at night. The nobleman pulled away from the one-sided kiss and stared as best he could with his glazed over eyes at her face. He wore a dopey smile as he spoke.

"Don't scream now," he said. "Let's see what you're hiding under here." He pressed her own arm against her mouth, holding it by her wrist, while he moved to untie her sash and the drawstring of her waistband. Katara thrashed at him, finally getting a kick to his shin to connect.

"Bitch," he cursed. He leaned against her to keep her still, his strength only seemed to increase with the injury to his person. Tears pooled in her eyes as she screamed out against her own skin. Then, what the man did made her knees buckle. His hand slipped inside her clothing, under her silk tunic and found the skin of her stomach. She felt him touch the bloomer style underwear that was given to her, trying to push them down off her hips with only one hand. He didn't get far. A flash of brilliant red flames splashed against the tilled floor at his feet. The man leaped up and away, releasing Katara.

"Step away from her," a voice commanded. Katara, without the support the man gave her, crumbled to the floor against the door. She saw the youngest prince step out from behind the curtain fully, still in his bending stance, and approached the man. The nobleman was several steps away from her now, standing facing the prince.

Katara watched in a daze.

"Get out," Prince Zuko commanded, never breaking eye contact with the man.

"But m-my lord," the noble stuttered.

"Get Out," the prince repeated. "You went after MY servant, against my wishes. You should be grateful I'm letting you leave in one piece." Zuko gave the noble a quick glance, to which the man held a protective hand over the tenting fabric of his pants.

"But my Lord, she isn't even _your_ servant, but Prince Iroh's whor-"

"You'd rather cross the Dragon of the West?" Zuko questioned. The nobleman went white and bowed. Zuko now knew what the rumors said of Iroh taking Katara on as his tea servant, and frankly, he was not that surprised.

"No, no," he said. Fear crept into his voice.

"Now," Zuko ordered. "You are to leave right now. I don't want to see you in the palace EVER again. Do you understand?"

"Yes yes my Prince," he nodded, bowing as he edged around Zuko and vanished into the main room. His fear seemed to have cooled off his passion, so Zuko had no need to torture the man with stories of his uncle's punishments on the battlefield; instead, he moved to Katara. She still sat where she fell, staring blankly across the hall at the opposite wall.

"Are you ok?" Zuko asked gently. When she did not respond, he asked, "Katara, did he hurt you?" The girl looked up at him, tears staining her cheeks. She could see he feared the worst. What the worst was, she was still clueless. She had been terrified; her tears told that story well enough for anyone to see.

"I-I don't know..." she muttered more to herself then him. "No… he didn't hurt me. He just scared me." She wiped her tears and sniffled. Zuko watched as she adjusted the waist scarf back to where it was supposed to be. She saw Zuko try and process what she said and fail. She accepted his hand to stand.

"Hang on a second," he sighed. He stood her next to the wall and entered the storage room. He walked out with a smaller pitcher and poured the liquid into his cup that he had tucked into his belt.

"Drink this," he stated. Katara accepted the liquid and took a sip. The moment the amber drink touched her lips she sputtered and stopped, making a disgusted face.

"This is fire whiskey!" she nearly shouted. "I don't want-"

"Just drink it," he snapped. His voice softened. "It will help." Katara had no strength left to fight him and drank the cup's worth in a few swallows. The liquid literally burned her throat and mouth as she drank it. She choked once, but handed the cup back empty. Her stomach rolled.

"Good," Zuko nodded. "Your new task is to follow me and fill my glass only. None of the other serving girls work alone, so you probably shouldn't either. Not after _that_." Katara nodded, grabbed up the smaller serving container and followed the prince back into the room. Just before Katara could step through the curtain, Zuko stopped her and looked her up and down.

"What?" she asked. Her throat was still raw from the whiskey and her tears. Zuko reached out and adjusted her tunic, smoothing out wrinkles bunched under her waist scarf. She flinched at the contact.

"Easy," he said, drawing back. "I don't want everyone seeing you follow me out from the hall looking so disheveled. I'm not in the mood to give anyone ideas for more gossip." Katara was about to ask him what he meant, but stopped when he reached out again and pulled an errant strand of hair from her face. It had fallen out of her bun. The action left both Zuko and Katara staring at his hand and then each other. Zuko reddened, turned around and pulled aside the curtain.

"Let's go," he stated. The curtain swished shut, but Katara hesitated. She felt the heat in her cheeks and knew they were flushed like the prince's. The fluttery feeling was back, though she was ready to blame it on the fact that he had just saved her and she was still riding the adrenaline rush. Taking a calming breath and blinking away the remaining moisture gathered in her eyes, she followed after Zuko.

They walked through the room, stopping every now and again when nobles and other visitors stopped Zuko to talk. Katara filled Zuko's cup and waited a few steps behind him. He motioned for her to fill another's cup only once. It was much easier to pay attention to only him as opposed to the whole room. Though, the room had emptied out since she vanished. After talking with a handful of people, Zuko moved to the main door and walked down the hallway. Katara noticed the other servers nearby watching her follow after him.

While she continued to keep pace with him outside, Katara thought about what Zuko had done for her. The nobleman who had cornered her had kissed her, she knew that much. It was something her parents had done, and GranGran had given her kisses before she fell asleep each night, though only on the forehead and never as rough. Refraining from touching her lips, Katara focused on the back of the prince's head as they wandered through the crowd.

Katara noticed that most of the crowds from inside were now out here. Above, paper lanterns glowed even in the sunlight. Children raced between a sea of adults, laughing. Scents of food filled the air. A spiced drink stand that they passed made Katara wonder how many beverages could be made with the potent affects of alcohol. The liquid she had sampled still left her throat sore, though now she could feel a tingling in her lips and forearms. It wasn't unpleasant, just strange.

It brought her mind back to her unsolved question. _Why_ _had he done it_? _What had the man been trying to accomplish with his actions_. She certainly didn't feel the need to rush someone in the street after drinking the cup of the same stuff. His motives had to lie outside the drink, maybe even before the drink, but it was still a mystery to her. The prince had stopped him before anything could happen. Katara nearly bumped into said prince when he stopped in the middle of the street.

"Katara," he stated, holding out his cup. She dutifully filled it with fire whiskey and proceeded to fill the cup of the man he spoke with at the prince's direction. She wondered how he could enjoy drinking the vile liquid. She wondered absentmindedly if she would have liked the tea wine better. _At least that stuff smelled good._

Zuko seemed to know the older man from somewhere, since their conversation was deeper than the festival and the weather or his grandfather's health. She zoned out again, watching the citizens of the Fire Nation enjoy their festival. Most of the food was familiar to her, though anything with too much heat she was not fond of herself. Further down the road, a great 'fountain' of a fire bender stood; flames constantly poured from his feet, one lifted in a kick and the other planted on a bronze base.

Katara pushed her hair from her shoulders, wiping at the sweat forming on her brow. The summer solstice was typically the hottest day of the year. The sun had been steadily heading down in the sky since the siblings' performance, but it was still early.

For the rest of the day, Katara followed Zuko, constantly keeping his cup full as he ran into people. The fact that he knew a lot of people should not have surprised her, but after a while it became apparent that they were mostly just seeking him out. Several noblemen with their wives and daughters in tow spoke with him. Katara would have found it humorous if she had not noticed Zuko begin to sway even when he tried to stand still. After a while, she noticed his words slurred together when he spoke too quickly. The prince developed a habit of running his fingers through his hair; he had since pulled it free of its tie. Katara shortly realized it was the drink making him act like this just like the other men in the palace, but she could not deny him. She was thankful when he turned back towards the palace as the sun fell to the horizon in the sky. they had been wandering the city for many hours.

The walk back to the palace was long. The fact that the prince and half the other people in the streets were swaying back and forth as they walked, even stumbling, was no help. The prince said something which Katara could not hear over the noise of the crowd, but it did not seem to matter. His eyes were fixed on a pair of women ahead of him. They walked arm-in-arm, giggling, and turned a corner. Katara wondered what he said for only a moment until he held out his cup once more.

"That's the last of it, Prince Zuko," she said, showing him the empty pitcher once his cup was filled most of the way up. She noticed his eyes were unfocused and bloodshot as he looked down at her. She could smell the whiskey on his breath when he breathed out and tried her best not to flinch. The memory was too recent, too raw, but not complete. Without the knowledge of the man's intentions, she was not quite sure how she should act about it. Fearful? But of what? Men? But Zuko had saved her and he was a man. She felt cautious mostly. The crowd thinned.

A glance to her right almost stopped her in her tracks. Between two buildings in an alleyway were a man and a woman. The man had his hands under the woman's tunic, her brown sash rumpled on the ground at her feet. The man kissed her on the lips, pressing his body close. Katara could not look away and wished the prince would walk slower, but he seemed to have found his stride. Katara then noticed the woman wore an open mouthed smile. Her head titled back to rest against the stucco building at her back and his hands laced through her hair. The man began to undo his pants but Katara and Zuko turned the corner and the scene was gone.

Katara's heart raced in excitement. What she had just seen was so similar to what happened to her. Now she was even more curious. The woman seemed to be enjoying herself if Katara had seen correctly. Was _she_ supposed to be smiling, her head tipped back and her eyes closed? Was that the correct response to a man's embrace in that situation? Even in her situation? She saw the man's hands originally disappear under the women's dress and wondered why. Though the biggest question was when he moved to loosen his own pants. _Why would he need to take off his pants_?

She thought to herself about what she knew of boys and men. It was not much. The girl knew they could not bear children, thus didn't bleed. That whole concept still intrigued her since Shiyu would not elaborate, saying it was for another night. She knew they were unusually sensitive if they got hit between the legs. She could still recall the time she dropped what she had thought was a snowball in her father's lap back the South Pole, but it had been a large chunk of ice. She had laughed at his pain, not knowing any better.

She did not know anything else that would be so glaring that she would miss it. She had never changed diapers with GranGran at the Zu household, or seen a man without his pants to know what she was missing in her comparison. Katara was pulled from her thoughts as Zuko tripped on the first step up to the palace. There were only five steps at this entrance. He caught himself, miraculously not spilling any of the remaining fire whiskey he still held in his cup. Katara helped him sit down to catch his breath.

The prince's face was flushed red and his normally alert eyes had trouble focusing on her. Katara watched as he brought the cup to his lips, drank a sip and then spilled a good deal down his chin and onto his outfit. The girl looked around for advice or help on how to deal with him in his current state, but everyone else seemed to still be back in the town's center by the flaming statue. Even the guards, which she assumed would be watching the doors, were no where to be seen.

A firework exploded in the air, both Zuko and Katara jumped. The sky had only begun to fade to blue, bidding the sun goodnight and the moon to rise. For all her time in the Fire Nation, Katara had never seen a firework or been to a festival. Shiyu was always gone on days like this. Now she knew why. She had not known they existed with the Zus since he had not taken her and GranGran to anything other than The Arena. While living with Shiyu though, Katara heard fireworks going off for the first time. Shiyu explained they were made with exploding packets of blasting jelly mixed with color and fire powder. Katara smiled when another one burst into the air. Her rest was short lived; the prince struggled to stand. She rushed to his side before he could tumble and helped him get inside.

Katara quickly figured out she could not carry both the empty pitcher and support the drunken prince. Making a decision, she set the serving pitcher near a wall, hoping no one would trip over it and walked Zuko back to his room. With her arm wrapped around his waist and his own slung over her shoulders, Katara tried her best to get him to his room without incident.

It wasn't easy; the prince tripped over his own feet several times, but Katara managed to keep him upright. With one hallway to go, Zuko began talking.

"I need to go to The Spitfire," he slurred. "We're going the wrong way." Katara knew there was no way he was going anywhere in his condition. She wondered where he had gotten the notion of going to that place and sincerely hoped sleep would cure him.

"We're going back to your room Prince Zuko," Katara said. "You spilled fire whiskey on your clothing and need to go to bed."

"That was good fire whiskey," the prince laughed. "It must have been a hot year. Are we at The Spitfire already?" Zuko reached for the door Katara led him to and walked inside without her help. His footsteps were heavy, but he made it to the bed. He stood with his back to her for a moment, one hand gripping the bedpost for support, the other on the comforter. Katara wondered if the effects were wearing off like it had for her after a short while. Though, her words had never begun to slur and her balance had not been effected. She turned her back to him and shut the door to the room. Before she could turn, Katara felt him embrace her from behind, hands fisting in the loose fabric over her breasts.

"Zuko?" Katara asked, her voice an octave too high. She felt his body pressed up against her own. His hips rocked against her bottom.

"What are you do-ing!?" She asked, just as the prince scoped her up and tossed her onto his bed, where he proceeded to cover her with his body. He surprised her with a kiss. To Katara, it seemed he was trying to sate some unreal hunger through it. She felt his hands glide over her breasts and down her waist to her hips. The most unusual sensation came over her as her body jumped of its own accord. With their bodies touching, Katara felt a similar sensation against her thigh as she did with the nobleman in the hall. The prince pushed up the fabric to her tunic and pulled the waistband of her pants down over her hips, all without releasing her from the kiss. The cool air against her thighs made Katara push him away. Her lower lip felt puffy from his last bite.

"Whatever you're doing Zuko-," Katara began to say, trying to push him further off of herself.

"It is not a servant's role to question her master," the prince echoed with a grin. Katara frowned, but it did not seem to bother the prince. He captured her lips again, deepening the kiss as she gasped.

She felt her pants gather at her ankles, and Zuko stepped in-between her knees. The cool air had since sent her skin flush with goose bumps. She could feel him between her thighs, rocking against her center. The warm solid mass she felt before seemed to be larger now, but what it was was still a mystery. Her body seemed to hum in anticipation, almost as if it knew something that she did not.

Katara was more excited than nervous now; she wanted to know what the next part of whatever he was doing was. While her heart raced, Katara did not feel the fear she felt in the hallway. This was different. She just wished he would tell her what he was doing first so she knew what to expect. Zuko freed her lips and moved down her neck. One hand found a breast and gave it a firm squeeze. Katara saw stars as he ran his fingertip over its peak, arching her back without meaning to.

"What did you do?" the girl breathed. Her body was reacting in such new ways that any and all of her fear had taken a backseat. She was only afraid of what the prince would do when he was angry. She had been given no other reasons to be fearful of him in his other moods.

Katara heard the sound of fabric rustling and falling to the floor but could not see what the sound belonged to. Her focus flew to the prince as his hand moved to the undergarments she wore under her pants. She squirmed, sending her hips away from his hand, but rubbing against him in the process. Zuko groaned and bit down hard enough on her neck to make Katara flinch. His movements for her coverings made her begin to reconsider her trust. She could clearly remember her mother, father, and grandmother all telling her when she was little that some parts of her body were only for her. As long as they were covered, like her breasts in their bindings that morning, Katara had no reason to feel nervous. But the youngest prince made a move to reveal one of those areas, and Katara would have none of that.

"Don't!" she ordered as his hand tugged at the edge of the fabric.

"Zuko stop," Katara said again, trying to push him away. "Tell me what you want. I've never-" The last two words seemed to work like magic as the skin to skin contact was gone immediately. Katara breathed a single sigh of relief and shut her eyes for a moment. She heard Zuko stumble to his drawers, open and pull something out. When she opened her eyes, Katara saw the door to the room swing closed. The prince was gone, leaving Katara more than confused.

The water tribe girl sat up on the bed, feeling strangely tense. She noticed an unusual moistness between her legs. _Why had he suddenly stopped?_ Had she reacted wrong? The girl just wanted to know what he planned to do. She had no previous experience to draw on, no one to gossip about the task with, or no one to walk in on to find out. The fact was plain that she was unknowledgeable about whatever Zuko had been about to do. It was obvious to her now that many if not all people knew about whatever this was, and it seemed to be common knowledge. Knowledge that she did not have. Katara leaned back on Zuko's bed and waited for him to return. She would get the answer out of him even if it killed her. After everything that had just almost happened, she completely forgot about the fact that prince was still drunk on fire whiskey.

...

Katara woke up the next morning from dreams of flaming oceans. The two elemental forces were evenly matched even as the ocean rolled and foamed. She was not quite sure what to make of it; her mother had been the one to tell her what her dreams and nightmares meant. It had not been a special power, her mother explained, just a good sense of intuition. She felt her eyes water at the thought and touched the blue choker at her neck. Katara wished more than ever that her mother was here to explain what was going on.

She quickly looked to the bed around her and found it once again un-slept in by the prince. She was slightly embarrassed that _she_ had fallen asleep in it. The girl frowned. Standing in a single swift movement, Katara walked into the bathroom and got to work on her morning routine. While changing, she caught sight of herself in the reflecting glass in the corner.

Before coming to the Fire Nation, Katara had never seen such a clear mirror. They had little ones in the South Pole, but they were typically foggy or warped from the extreme temperature changes. This full length mirror stood against the far corner, sandwiched between two large plants in bronze pots. The Water Tribe girl stood naked before it in the beam of light provided by the eastern facing window opening.

Katara was not sure how she felt looking at herself without her clothing on. It was something she never thought to do, but after last night, she was curious what someone else would see. She ran her hands down her sides, following the curve in her waist to her hip bones as the prince had down. Just the memory of the stirrings he evoked gave her more goose bumps then the cool morning air. The sheer curtains behind her ruffled in the breeze, startling her for moment. When she turned back to the mirror, she spotted the mark on her neck. It looked like a bruise, but if she looked hard enough, Katara was sure she could make out a few teeth imprints. She touched it, turning her neck to see the mark better. _This must be where he bit me_.

Finally, Katara turned her attention to the source of her confusion with last night's events. Unless it was her moon time, Katara never really gave this part of her body any attention out of the ordinary. It was confusing to her why anyone would want to see it. As she stood staring at herself, Katara wondered when the prince would be back. These questions about his actions burned hotter than any flame, and she _would_ have them answered.

She dressed and moved to the main room, picking up Zuko's discarded clothing from yesterday. The pieces still smelled of fire whiskey, so she gathered them with the other washing she did not have time to do before and proceeded to the courtyard.

The palace had fallen back into its typical routine. No longer were normal citizens seen in the hallways and servants were back to their usual tasks. The day passed without event, and Zuko did not return to his room.

The next morning, Katara allowed herself to worry. The prince still had not come back. She wondered if he had gotten hurt and was dying on the streets. She considered that he may just be avoiding the room, but she knew not why. Either way, there was nothing she could do if if she wanted to. She curled up near the window with one of her books and tried to not worry.

Near noon, just before Katara was ready to get lunch, there was a knock on the door. She sat up and waited for it to open. The person knocked again, this time with more force.

"Prince Zuko?" the man called. "There is an urgent message from the warfront about your uncle and cousin for you. Prince Zuko? Are you in there?" Katara sat ramrod straight, holding herself back from answering the door. She doubted the messenger would even give her the message, but she wanted to know what it said. Her mind was made up for her when the footsteps disappeared in a hurry down the hall. Katara did not know when Zuko would return to the room anyway; it was probably best the man try to find the prince himself.

But now as she walked to the kitchen to get lunch, she worried for Iroh and Lu Ten. An urgent message could not be good, or else the whole city would know by now and be celebrating some major victory. As much as she was completely against this war that had torn apart her family and stolen her to this foreign land, she did not want the two princes to die. They had both been good to her in their own ways.

She decided to send a prayer to Tui and La when she returned to the room to keep them safe and guide them. It did not occur to her that others may have thought praying to the moon and ocean spirits for a pair of firebenders was crazy, but to Katara, Iroh and Lu Ten needed what the spirits represented other then the moon and ocean: protection and safe travels. She ate and returned to Zuko's room.

The rest of the day, Katara practiced her waterbending in the bathroom. No one knocked on the door again looking for the youngest prince, so Katara assumed he was in the palace somewhere and they had found him. He did not return again that night.

The next morning, Katara decided enough was enough. She dressed in the comfiest of her serving outfits, though the pants and tunic were due for a wash, and left the room in search of the prince.

* * *

I apologize for the long wait on this chapter. I was out of town this weekend without a way to post it. I do hope that it's good enough and long enough for everyone to make up for the wait.

Zuko and Azula's firebending 'dance' is probably my favorite scene so far. Just in case anyone wants to know. :)

The chapter title comes from the lyrics to the song "What do You Want from Me" by Cascada.


	14. I'm Your's Tonight

**-Chapter 14- I'm Yours Tonight**

"I don't think he'll be avoiding his room anytime soon now."

* * *

Katara had no idea where to even begin. The palace was large and she only knew where certain hallways led, unlike the prince who probably knew all his home's secret passages and shortcuts. Taking a deep breath, she set off. The water tribe girl wandered hallways and peered into courtyards for the next hour. It had not occurred to her that the palace was this large and expansive on the inside. _What could all these room really be used for? _Surely no one lived in them all.

She stumbled into a large courtyard, the hallway opening into a covered path running between the two buildings. A single tree stood guard over a still pond. She saw two figures in red, one sitting, one standing near the water's edge. As Katara continued to walk the path she heard them talking and finally saw the two women's faces. She recognized Ozai's wife and daughter and silently wondered if either of them knew where Zuko was. She was not sure if it was acceptable to march over and ask though, especially now knowing the young princess was a superb firebender. Katara assumed her patience with servants was worse than her brother's. Their conversation drifted to her as she passed them.

"-taking the news badly," Princess Azula said. "Though all the practice might actually do him some good."

"Azula," Lady Ursa frowned. "Your brother is very close to your uncle, you know that."

"Yes," the girl replied, almost bored with the conversation. She said something else her mother didn't seem to agree with.

"We don't talk like that Azula," Ursa stated. She rose from her seat near the pond's edge. Katara heard quaking from what she assumed was a family of turtle ducks. She had seen them before, floating happily in the laundry basin one morning. "Family is-" The wind took the woman's words in the wrong direction just as Katara moved back into the palace building. She would need to ask Zuko what the message said when she found him; she was curious what could work him up so much to send him to avoid her and his room.

Just as she was about to give up in her search, Katara heard a shout and a familiar male voice call out 'Again'. She increased her pace and charged into a room with sliding panels wide open to welcome in a breeze. Three guards stood in ready position facing prince Zuko, who had his back to her. When she walked onto the training floor the guards turned to her. Zuko followed their gaze.

"Prince Zuko," she stated, bowing her head, remembering at the last second that even if she _was _mad at him, she still needed to show respect for his royal bloodline. "I'd like to speak with you. In privet."

"The prince has no-" one of the guards began to say, but Zuko held up his hand in a gesture of silence.

"Shut the panels and then leave us," Zuko ordered. He turned away from Katara and waited until the room was sealed and empty save for them. He sighed.

"Katara-"

"Where have you been?" the girl interrupted. "I thought you had gone off and gotten injured again when you didn't come back." She walked around to talk to his face, but the prince looked away. She continued on anyway. "What have you been doing for two days that you couldn't come back to your room and tell me?" She paused and added, just loud enough, "I was worried."

"I don't deserve your sympathy," he sighed.

"Why?" Katara asked, frustrated. "Zuko, you have to tell me what's wrong or I can't fix it the next time. What did I do that you won't look at me when I'm speaking to you?" Something was different. She realized after she said those words, that he would normally get mad at her, like before when she disobeyed him, but he did nothing. He did not bat an eyelash or respond in any way that showed Katara he was losing his temper with her.

"_You_ didn't do anything wrong," he explained.

"Then why-?" she tried to ask, but he continued on before she could complete her question.

"I did. And I can't forgive myself for what I tried to do. I don't want to become my father or Zhao in that regard," he stated. Zuko looked at the closed doors, the wall, the ceiling, anywhere but at Katara. Katara glanced at the corner his gaze has caught on and noticed a bronze pot of water, most likely used by the people who trained in this room as a way to wash up afterward. Zuko took a breath and looked in her direction.

"I'm giving you a chance to make up for what I almost did to you. Fight me. It will be like an Agni Kai except with two styles of bending. It won't make up for what happened, but it can be a start."

"Zuko" she sighed, "you didn't"

"Now!" he stepped into his stance and blasted a fireball in her general direction. Panicked, Katara reached towards the pot of water in the corner of the room and pulled the liquid up into a shield in defense. The shield held back the blast but fell apart into floating water streams around her the moment the flames vanished. A wave of panic fell over her and she hurriedly scanned the room for witnesses.

"There's no one here," Zuko called out. "You're free to bend as you wish."

"I don't want to fight Zuko," Katara said, dropping her hands and thus the water. It splashed on the ground around her, soaking the bottom of the pants she wore. "I want to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," Zuko replied. He bowed his head for a moment before stepping forward and throwing two flaming punches in quick succession. Katara pulled more water to her hands to block the flames then attempted her own attack. Her practice in the bathroom seemed to have come in handy when the whip snapped across Zuko's shoulder, just inches from where she actually intended it to land. He flinched but responded with a fire blast from his left foot. She avoided it and stepped into a new form, pulling the water from the ground up with her motion.

Katara had never before had the chance to spar with anyone. The only fights she had even seen were in the arena, and they were much different from this one. Though she had only watched the prince bending in a fight once, she knew he was holding back. It made her wonder why he was so eager to have her fight him if he was just going to play defense. He obviously was not going to just talk about the situation like she wanted, and she couldn't focus on bending while trying to make him answer her questions.

She threw a ball of water at him while cursing his pigheadedness. The liquid froze midair into a solid ice sphere, crashing into the stone wall where Zuko's body had been moments before. Katara paused, blinking. Stepping to the side so the weak flames blasted in her general area and shielding another stream of red with her water, Katara thought about the ice. It shouldn't surprise her, water and ice were the same element. _Now how do I do it again?_

She had even used ice once before, though it had been an accident and she wasn't quite sure how she did it. Frustrated, Katara blew out a large sigh. The center of her water shield froze. Breath. That was how she could freeze the water. Katara smiled and tried another water whip. It splashed against Zuko's chest, bits of ice clinging to his shirt as she exhaled. For as much as she had not wanted to fight at first, she was learning more then she could have asked for. Then Katara noticed something else: Zuko seemed to be moving slower now that he had ice frozen to parts of his clothing. It gave Katara an idea. If she could stop him in his tracks, since she didn't know how to win otherwise, he would be a captive audience and would be forced to talk to her and answer all her questions. The prince seemed to notice her grin.

Katara tried to use the water whip, the move fast becoming her favorite, to hit each part of her opponent and freeze them separately. When Zuko began dodging them with more effort though, she realized she needed a faster way, or her endurance would run out long before his. Katara was not used to this strenuous exercise. Her muscles and her ability to focus on manipulating water this quickly still needed practice. Luckily, an idea hit her. She called the rest of the water from the pot, pulling it around herself in an impromptu shield to block Zuko's latest fire blasts, then with the momentum gained as she spun, flung the wave at Zuko. The prince was hit directly and pressed up against the wall as Katara exhaled, twisting her wrists. The extra hand movement came naturally to her as the liquid froze solid, pinning Zuko to the wall. He struggled for a moment as Katara approached.

"I win," she stated. "Now, I want to talk." The prince blinked, almost surprised at her statement, then turned and looked away.

"You owe me some answers Zuko," Katara declared. Her face was set with a frown as she crossed her hands over her chest. She thought she heard him sigh and saw steam begin to rise from the ice.

"I don't," he sighed, stepping out of the ice prison once he melted himself free.

"Listen Zuko," Katara interrupted, her voice losing its power and almost took on a pleading tone. "I don't want to be left in the dark anymore on this. I need to know. Just let me ask." The youngest prince met her gaze, was silent for moment, and then nodded.

"Ok," he finally replied. Katara smiled up at him and he asked. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know why you did what, well, whatever it was you were doing, the night of the summer solstice," Katara said. There was no hint of embarrassment in her eyes, though she felt her cheeks flush when she remembered the stirrings and new feelings she had felt in her body. Zuko, on the other hand, went red and looked away.

"I was drunk and-" Zuko began. It was hard to admit; he usually did not imbibe that much on feast days, or any day. He typically knew when to stop.

"I know you were," Katara stated. She sighed, "what were you trying to accomplish? That's the part I don't understand."

"I don't think I understand your question," Zuko answered. "I was trying to do what any man in my situation would have tried... I'm not saying it was right, but-"

"That's my question," Katara interrupted. "_What_ would any man in that situation have done?" Zuko tilted his head slightly.

"Slept with you?" he responded; he paused. "Did you just want me to admit it out loud?"

"But you didn't try to sleep, you were doing something else entirely. I would have been fine with just sleeping..." There was silence for a moment.

"You have no idea what was about to happen do you?" Zuko asked, his mouth slightly gapping.

"That's why I'm asking you," Katara sighed. She threw her head back and her arms up in exasperation.

"So, not only are you a virgin, but you also don't know about sex at all," Zuko put his hand to his temple. "I can't believe I almost-"

"What's a virgin?" Katara asked. Zuko fidgeted where he stood.

"Didn't your parents , or, any of the other servants teach you anything? How old are you anyway?"

"I'm sixteen," Katara replied. "And I was separated from my parents when I was six and Gran Gran not long after. Shiyu didn't teach me anything but medical techniques and I don't seem to be popular with the other servants enough to gossip." Zuko was silent as he looked Katara over, almost as if seeing her for the first time. He wasn't sure if she was lucky or unfortunate not to have been exposed to the act at all in her life.

"Will you teach me?" she asked innocently. Memories of the festival night mixed with the imaginings in Zuko's mind as she asked the question. He was glad she couldn't read his thoughts and see how he pictured teaching her.

"Well," he coughed, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Why does everyone I ask give me that same look of horror?" Katara asked in annoyance. She threw her hands up again and turned to march away. Shiyu, Prince Iroh, and now you!"

"You asked my uncle about sex?" Zuko exclaimed. His could picture his uncle's face as she asked.

"No, he asked me what I knew when I questioned him about the brothel I was taken to when I was kidnapped. It was the same one you wanted to go to that night, The Spitfire." Katara didn't mention that Iroh had had said he didn't think he was the right person to explain it for fear Zuko would parrot the excuse. She _would_ get her answer, even if it killed her. The prince groaned and looked visibly pained at the mention of his drunken ramblings. He leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor, holding his fingertips to his temples.

"Look," Zuko explained. "Most girls learn from their mothers or aunts or some other _female_ relative. It's not a topic that's discussed as casually as you'd think."

"Why?" Katara asked. "You still haven't told me what people do during sex... right _sex_? That's the right word?" Zuko nodded.

"It's highly personal," Zuko stated, clenching and unclenching his fists as he struggled with his words to give him something to focus on instead of his imaginings. "Girls get embarrassed about it, unless they're gossiping with their friends, I guess. I don't know! I'm a guy, I just do it! I don't talk about it with other guys. It's just satisfying a need, since I'm not trying to have children yet." He shuddered at the thought.

"Children?" Katara asked. "That's how you get children? This is too much. I'm not going to remember this all." Katara plopped down on the ground on her knees facing Zuko who still leaned against the wall. She thought to herself for a moment. "You called me a virgin, what's that?"

"A person who hasn't had sex," Zuko recited, refusing to look at her.

"So what's sex?" Katara asked. She leaned forward and tilted her head to the side, as if the new angle would magically answer her questions. She noticed Zuko's cheeks had become bright red. His golden eyes were closed as he sat, one hand cupping his forehead the other arm draped over his knee.

"Its," Zuko began, haltingly, "something men and women do together, usually in a bed without clothing."

"Why?" Katara asked, "no wait, how? Is it like kissing? Because I'm not-"

"It's _more_ than kissing," Zuko said. He adjusted his pose on the floor, repositioning his legs to give himself more room and looked at Katara with what she thought was a pained expression.

"It can start that way, but- people do it because it feels good, and men seek it out more than women." He was struggling to keep a clear head.

"But _what_ is it?" Katara asked. She was almost physically frustrated that he was still avoiding her question. She was unaware of the tension she was putting on the prince.

"I don't know how to explain it!" Zuko shouted. He had long lost control of his thoughts and his body was acting on its own accords. Katara's next statement could not have been worse timed.

"Then show me," she said. It took all his willpower not to jump the girl right there.

"No," he stated. He could hear the desire in his voice as he spoke. Katara heard the change in his speech but had no reference to know what it meant.

"Why?" she asked, practically begging.

"Because you should have someone who will go easy on you for your first time." Katara set her lip in a serious frown and in all her innocence brought up a valid point.

"So, you think that the nobleman in the hallway or the man who ordered my kidnapping or any other man who happens to get his hands on me will do that?" Katara asked. "I might not know much about any of this, but I don't think they would. The only man who has shown ANY self restraint around me with this topic is you. I don't know why you think you've dishonored me for what you did that night, but I want to you know you haven't. Instead, you've given me this opportunity. Now, please Prince Zuko, teach me." That was all the prince needed to hear.

"Fine," he agreed, springing to his feet, "but not here. We'll go back to my room." He helped her up and pulled her to the door with less self-control than he wished he displayed. Zuko dismissed the guards milling around the hallway.

"Reset the training room and return to your original duties," he called. Once he turned the corner and headed back to the room he turned to Katara. He still held her wrist, but she kept pace, walking almost side by side with him. She was flush with excitement over his agreement to show her what she had never known. They arrived back at Zuko's bedroom, once inside, he turned to her.

"I know I said I would show you," he said, "but if you want to stop at any point just so say so. I don't want to force you like I tried to do before." Katara shook her head, silent laughter in her eyes.

"I want to know what the big deal is," she smiled. "Everyone else seems to know. I don't want to be left in the dark anymore." A pause hung in the air. "So how do we begin?" Zuko seemed to be at a loss as well.

"Come closer," he sighed. The weight of the situation, that he was about to teach his uncle's virgin servant about sex through a demonstration dampened some of his rash excitement, but it did not make his pants any looser.

"This is where the clothing comes off?" she asked, stepping almost flush against him. The prince put one hand on her shoulder and cupped her face with the other.

"Most people begin like this," he explained and with only a slight hesitation, bent to kiss her. Unlike last time, Katara knew what to expect, more or less. The fact that he did not taste like fire whiskey was an added bonus as well. Katara mimicked his actions from before and flicked her tongue over his teeth. He seemed surprised at her boldness. Zuko paused. She reacted in kind.

"Don't stop," Zuko instructed keeping his voice as even as he could. He spoke against her lips, his thumb caressing her chin, "do what feels good." Katara leaned in again, wrapping her hands around his shoulders and allowing the prince to pull her closer. She let her eyes close lazily and tried to focus on what she felt. Her feet left the ground shortly after, their kiss unbroken. She felt the bed on her back. Zuko parted her knees to stand between them. Pressing their hips together, Katara noticed the firm bulge once more.

"Zuko, what's?" she began. He grinned.

"That comes later. Help me take this off," he pulled at her shirt after untying her belt. Katara assisted him and pulled the fabric over her head. She was left sitting in her pants and bindings.

"Now these," Zuko pointed. He pulled at the white fabric, freeing the waterbender's breasts. She watched him run a finger from her collarbone to the tip of the left mound and jerked unconsciously.

"Wh-" she tried to ask.

"Shhh," he replied, grinding his hips in slow circles with hers as he took both breasts in his hands and flicked each pink bid with his thumbs. She heard herself make strange mewling sounds and tried to stop, thinking they sounded weird and that she was not reacting right.

"Don't hold back," she heard him say.

"But I don't know the right reaction," Katara countered, nearly breathless already.

"There's no right and wrong to this," he said, sounding irritated. "Let yourself feel and react the way you want." Zuko moved one hand down to her hips and then slid her pants off in a simple motion. When he tugged at the last piece of fabric on her body Katara sat up and caught his hands.

"Not there," she stated, almost fearful.

"Katara," Zuko said, though his voice was much deeper now with a slight edge to it. _Is he frustrated? _Katara didn't know for sure.

"Can we just skip this part and-?"

"This IS the part we were getting to," Zuko growled. He paused for a second, his whole body went still as he asked, "do you want to stop?"

"No," Katara shook her head and released his hands. She looked away, heart hammering, then met his eyes with her own trusting gaze.

"Ok," she tried to smile. "Let's continue." She took the fabric and slid it off down her long legs to where it crumpled in a heap on the floor. Zuko stared. Now it Katara's turn to blush. She sat naked before him, him in only his pants from his workout, but it wasn't his muscled chest that caught her eye like it had been when she met him in the Arena. Now it was the bulging mass right in front of her. She reached and put her hands on Zuko's hips, hooking her fingers in his waistband and easing it lower. He let her do it at her own pace, guiding the front free. What she discovered was anything but expected. The prince watched her for a moment as she just stared at him. His pants had pooled on the floor at his ankles. Stepping out of them, he reached for Katara's hand.

"You've obviously never played with boys growing up," Zuko grinned. He knew all too well that young boys loved playing the 'show me yours I'll show you mine game.' It was a new experience being with a girl who had no prior knowledge of anything at all. Katara shook her head and pulled her hand back when he brought it close enough that she could feel the heat of his body.

"What does it do?" she asked. Zuko tensed, the more she dragged this out, the harder it would be for him to be gentle.

"This," he explained, pointing, "goes there." He reached to touch her center, but Katara slammed her legs shut.

"Why?" she squeaked. Her body seemed to have a mind of its own and she felt the heat slowly grow between her legs. It was almost like her body wanted him to touch her there, to stick that thing inside her most privet of places.

"You'll just have to trust me," Zuko groaned.

"Ok," she nodded. It took all his self control not to throw open her legs and slam himself into her like some whore down at the Spitfire. He could take it slow, let her understand what she wanted to know and try to make it enjoyable for the both of them, unlike his own first time. Remembering the event dulled his enthusiasm slightly. The woman his father had sent to him when he turned thirteen had not been interested n what was going on at all. She only pushed him through the motions of sex; it was Lu Ten who took him to the The Spitfire where the girls took good care of him later on. Though, that first experience nearly kept him from the act later on. It didn't help that his first had been much older than him and not very attractive. Unlike the nervous girl before him now.

"What do I need to do?" she asked. Katara saw how he looked her over, almost lost in thought. Her words pulled him back to the present, back to the naive girl waiting for his direction. His silence made her grow bolder, reaching for his bare chest, exploring with her thin fingers the definition and muscles. He was warm under her fingertips, his pale skin smooth and unmarred. She touched where he had been injured on his shoulder and then ran her fingers down his stomach slowly once she reached the patch of dark hair above his manhood. She drew back for a moment, then took a steadying breath and ran a single finger down its length. The organ jumped under her touch and she drew back.

Without a word, Zuko grabbed her hand and pulled it back. With his guidance, Katara gingerly touched the smooth skin. It was such a new sensation; she could feel her center growing warmer. Katara fidgeted, shifting her weight to try and ease the pressure. Zuko moved forward, noses touching and went in for another kiss. She felt his weight press her onto her back. A warm hand ran down her hips until it came to rest between her legs. She felt him touch her there; sliding through the gathered moisture. Then he did something, touched a part of her, that made her gasp into his kiss. Her back arched up into his chest as she tried to call out. A single touch had her grinding her hips into nothing, silently begging for more of what she still did not know.

"Ready?" came Zuko's rough voice. Katara almost did not notice that his eyes had grown brighter with his desire. She nodded without realizing her whole body was tight as a wire, waiting. This was already more then she had hoped for, and she figured she knew what everyone else was talking about now.

She could not see what he was doing in her current position, but a sudden heat touching her moist folds made her curious. She met Zuko's eyes once he looked back to her face. One hand rested on her hips and the other held his manhood near her entrance. Katara felt her opening spread to fit him. She lifted her hips up and down, enjoying the sensations the slight friction created even before he was inside.

Katara gasped, her hands fisting in the sheets as he pushed inside of her. She heard her herself moan, turning her head to try and bury it in the sheets. Zuko held it there for a second, marveling at the tightness of her, then retreated almost all the way. Katara writhed underneath him. It was painful, being stretched open like that, but now she felt empty. She was not quite sure how she felt about it.

The prince thrusted once more then began a steady rhythm. Katara lost her grip on the sheets, found Zuko's bicep, and dug her nails in with the next thrust. Both of his hands held onto her hips now, guiding their seemingly random spasms of pleasure into line with his own movements. Finally, when Katara thought she would not be able to handle anymore, Zuko pulled out of her completely. She lay back and caught her breath, curious about the buildup if there was nothing at the end. Slowly, she sat up. Her long brown hair was rumpled from her tossing and turning and stood up at funny angels, falling in her face. Cheeks flushed, Katara smiled up at Zuko. He stood at the edge of the bed, giving her some space after the event. He held a hand towel in his hands; Katara wondered when he had picked it up.

"I'm usually not that fast," Zuko admitted, turning away from a moment. Katara had no reference of time to compare and shook her head.

"Thank you though," she smiled, still riding the high. He turned to her while he swiped the towel against a spot on the sheets then tossed it near the door. Katara took his hands when he was finished and flashed him a content smile; somehow she now felt closer to this young man who had just given her a great gift. She no longer would be left in the dark on this topic. She glanced down, her blue eyes resting on the space between his legs. She reached out again, dropping his hands.

"Why is it?" she began to ask, touching the v-shape that his hips and abdomen muscles formed just above it. The limp organ slowly filled with life again.

"Why does it do that?" Katara asked. Without fear she explored it now, running her fingers along the veins as they grew and began to throb. Zuko was surprised at himself. He usually never needed a second round to feel satisfied. The girls at the Spitfire were good, but tonight had been something different. He was not sure if it was the fact that he had been so quick to finish or that she was still curious that he was ready to go so soon afterward, but he did not mind. He grinned at the girl and she seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. Excitement built in her once more.

...

The next morning, Katara found the room filled with light before she even woke up. Two thoughts filled her head. One, that something had to be wrong for her to sleep this late into the morning, and two, that she was sleeping tucked into a warm body behind her. Katara turned her head and saw the prince's arm wrapped over her waist. Last night's events swarmed her mind like a flock of frog-pigeons. Katara blushed, thinking about how intimate the things they had done were, and there she lay, naked, pressed up against the youngest prince of the Fire Nation. She would have never believed anyone if they told her this would happen. Zuko stirred and pulled her closer. She felt her buttocks press against his manhood and grew warmer in her core. She heard the prince yawn and felt him lift his hand to stretch.

"Good morning," Katara smiled slowly. Zuko paused, almost as if he had completely forgotten about her. He looked around the room as Katara sat up, pulling the comforter with her to cover her bare chest.

"Good morning," he echoed, watching her carefully. They both stared in silence for a moment, not sure what to say. Since Zuko remained quiet, Katara took the moment to speak.

"Is that what it would have been like it if I was left at the Spitfire if the Blue- well, Lu Ten- had not gotten me?" Katara asked, staring at her hands.

"No," Zuko answered without pause. "The girls there work to make the men, their customers, happy. That's what they get paid to do."

"Every night?" Katara asked. "Wow." Zuko sighed, he explained further.

"Not everyone in the city likes the brothel girls. They work hard, but because of their profession, they're called whores and looked down upon by other women. It's not a 'proper' role for women to have, at least the noblewomen think so."

"What's a whore?" Katara asked. She lifted her arms to stretch, remembering being called that word on multiple occasions.

"It's a women who sleeps with anyone who wants her and can pay," he explained.

"So it's a bad thing, being a whore?" Katara asked.

"It's a derogatory term, yes," Zuko answered. After a pause, "you've heard it more than once then?" Katara nodded.

"It doesn't matter," she said sadly, now that she knew what it meant. "They'll think what they want no matter what I say." There would have been silence, but Katara asked another question.

"What was that other thing you were taking about last night? When you were talking about forcing me the night of the summer solstice and dishonoring me?"

"It's a crime, called rape. It means you had sex with someone who wasn't willing. It's looked down upon and punishable by being locked in prison, if the woman is highborn or has family with political pull. It's never brought up with servants and prisoners, since you'd be considered property anyway," Zuko explained.

"So why were you so upset then?" Katara asked, she felt a sudden sadness as she said, "if it wouldn't have mattered if you'd gone through with it that night." Zuko frowned and looked away for a second.

"Because-" Zuko began to say. He fumbled for the words, sitting in silence for a long time. "I would have dishonored you." Katara wondered what he meant, but did not press him further. Even she knew when he did not know what to say. She went back to the original topic to break the silence that threatened to hoover over the room.

"Is it common here?" she asked. Now that she knew what the signs were, she realized that both times she had been alone she had been in a situation which could have ended as Zuko described.

"It usually happens amongst the poorer woman with the rich men in the city, though not much is done about it that I hear of. The reports typically just fade when someone gets paid off or the families settle it themselves in a privet duel. It doesn't fall within the palace's interests to chase after every lawbreaker. That's the city's guard's job... Though I've heard some of the noblewoman complain of it when they get married, at least the noblewomen who get married off in political dealings. Most of our marriages recently haven't been for power though."

"Will yours be?" Katara shyly asked. It felt weird, asking about the woman who he would spend the rest of his life with and do the same things with that he had just done with her last night. Zuko held his tongue for a moment and Katara felt strangely jealous of this make-believe woman. It was a new feeling, one she was not so sure she liked.

"Probably," he stated. "Both my uncle and father's marriages were. I haven't given it much thought since I'm not about to become Firelord anytime soon." He paused, then asked a question of his own. "How does that work in the Water Tribe? Marriage."

"I'm not sure," Katara answered. "I was far too young when I was brought here. We had nothing close to your royalty or nobility though to even think about arranged marriages. We had a chief, my father, who led my village, but that's it. As long as each family was ok with it, then I guess it was fine. Everyone was more or less equal, so I don't see a point in having an arrangement. It must be hard though, if the two don't want to be together."

"Yes," Zuko sighed, "but we all know what's expected of us, whether we agree or not. There will always be women who have no luck and end up married to men like Admiral Zhao, but most are well off."

"What's wrong with the admiral?" Katara asked. "Why do you dislike him so much?" She was not about to defend the man since she wasn't quite sure of his intentions, but she wanted to know anyway. Zuko finished stretching and looked up at the ceiling before he answered the question.

"Zhao isn't a good man," he scowled. Katara wondered what feud lay beneath the surface of the relationship between the prince and admiral. "He's a sore loser, greedy, power-hungry, and loves spending every free moment at the brothels. Its rumored he led raids to Earth Kingdom towns to strictly capture women." Taking a breath, Zuko backtracked, "It's not a bad thing to go there every now and again, but there's a limit until it's just distasteful. I understand why Uncle wanted to keep you away from him. You're so different from anything he's probably gotten his hands on."

"Prince Iroh told you why he really brought me here?" Katara asked.

"Lu Ten told me," Zuko explained. "He also told me about seeing Zhao at the brothel, and you talked about being rescued from there just before that. Even without proof, I'm sure Zhao was the one who set up your kidnapping. But Uncle was right in thinking he can't get to you here. Especially while he's off fighting."

"But if he does-" Katara offered. "If he finds me, you think he'll-" Zuko sat up, the sheets pooling in his lap.

"Not while you're under my protection," Zuko interrupted. "I promise not to let _anyone_ so much as touch you while you belong to me." Katara sat stunned. The silence made her wonder if she was supposed to say something in return, but she noticed that the prince seemed to have surprised himself. The words had just come. While his words sounded truthful, Katara wondered if they would be too much for him to follow.

After a moment of silence, Zuko let himself wonder why he suddenly felt so strongly protective of her. Was it that he felt responsible for her now, seeing as he had been her first, her teacher in the acts beneath the sheets? His gaze lay on her as he thought.

She smiled up at him. As he looked at her, she felt a rush from the memories of last night's adventures. How warm he was against her cool naked skin. It made her wonder if all firebenders felt that way. There was a knock at the door.

"Prince Zuko," the voice asked. Katara froze; she was completely nude on the bed beside him. Anyone who walked in would see them both. She squirmed, pulling the covers over her chest. Zuko let her cover herself.

"Yes?" he called. The door began to open, he spotted Katara's panicked reaction and called out.

"Don't come in, what's the message?"

"Forgive me," the voice stated. "Your mother requests your presence at the northern courtyard."

"Tell her I'll be there shortly." Zuko instructed.

"Yes, prince Zuko," the messenger stated. He shut the door and Zuko stood to dress. Katara still held the sheet up to her chest. It hung loose now, almost showing off her left breast, the fabric clinging precariously.

"Zuko," Katara said. "Did you ever get the message about your uncle?"

"A few days ago," he answered, pulling open his drawers and getting dressed. "Why?"

"I wanted to know what it was about," Katara looked down at her hand on her chest. "Is he ok?"  
"Uncle's been injured," Zuko said. He had paused while putting on his shirt and stood with only a fresh pair of pants on.

"The message was part of a report from the highest caption under him at the front. It said he had been injured and was ripped up pretty bad. They don't know the extent of his injuries, but it was bad enough to send him and Lu Ten right back home for medical attention. Though, the note said he was in stable condition to travel."

"Oh no," Katara gasped. "When will he return?" Zuko shrugged.

"Without the whole army, the trip will be much faster, but it will still take at least a week or more." Katara nodded.

"I hope he's ok and gets back safe," she sighed. Zuko nodded, pausing after he put on his clothing.

"I'm going to find my mother now," he stated, hesitantly. "The laundry needs to be done today." Katara thought he sounded slightly embarrassed about telling her to do her job as she always did, but he was gone after a moment and she couldn't ask him. Thus the day passed as it normally did, which each of them doing their own normal tasks. As usual, neither of them crossed paths as they went about their days.

And then, before either of them knew it, the day was done and night brought them together once more. Unlike their elements, their passion was not extinguished when they came together. They fed off of one another, fire learning control and water learning passion. They were up late that night, the sky's evening guardian watching high overhead. Finally, curled together, they slept. Peace filled the night.

* * *

Soooo, I'll be the first to admit that I'm no good at writing lemons. I'm sorry if it was boring or awkward to read (though with the Q&A going on I suppose awkward was to be expected huh?). This is the first time I've attempted to write one and I'll admit I need practice, but I hoped it added to the story and you all still enjoyed reading this chapter. And now Katara isn't in the dark anymore about the wonderful world of adults! haha

I'm sorry this took so long to post. Its actually been done for a few days, but i was worried about posting it... The next chapter though is nearly finished and will be up in a much shorter timeframe :) Promise

The chapter title comes from the lyrics to the song "Keep it Right There" by the artist Ali Lee.


	15. Like Today Never Happened

**-Chapter 15- Like Today Never Happened  
**

"My freedom for his life, and I would do it again in a heartbeat."

* * *

For once, the room filled with sunlight before either of them awoke. Filtering through the sheer curtains and resting on the bed, the light stirred neither of them. They lay curled together; Zuko had his back to the window with Katara's forehead resting against his chest. Her hair lay unbound again the pillow, resting in tangled brown waves behind her. On her waist, Zuko's hand rested. The silken sheets covered their hips and legs, the rest of them exposed to the warm morning air. Had there been no disturbances, the two of them could have dozed until midday.

The knock on the door gave them little warning. Zuko opened his eyes just in time to see the knob turn. He knew the voice immediately.

"Zuko-"

"Don't!" Zuko called, but he was too late to stop the intruder. Katara woke to Zuko sitting up in bed and grabbing at the sheets to make sure everything was covered.

"Don't what?" The voice snapped as the person at the door threw it open and walked in. Katara recognized the voice and pulled the sheets over her exposed chest. She could feel her face reddening as she saw the princess stare at her brother.

"Oh," Azula sneered, her smile devious.

"Get out," Zuko growled. Katara watched him chuck a pillow towards the door. His sister blocked it without effort. Katara wondered for a moment why the princess did not look embarrassed about walking in on them.

"Alright, but then you won't hear the message I was supposed to give you," she said, still smiling, and turned to leave. "Your loss."

"Azula!" Zuko called, halting her in the doorway. "What's the message?"

"It's about Uncle," she grinned, eying the two of them in bed. Katara tensed, clutching the silk to her breasts tighter with worry. Any embarrassment she had felt from the princess catching them together in bed faded as she sat up to hear what she had to say better. Azula laughed to herself.

"Though I'm not sure Uncle would be pleased to hear that you're fu-'

"Its not like that-" Zuko tried to say.

"No Zuzu," Azula countered. "This is exactly what it looks like. Won't Father be proud." She laughed.

"What's the message Azula?" Zuko asked through ground teeth. Azula examined her nails dismissively and sighed.

"Nothing important really," she rolled her eyes. "Just that Uncle is with the doctor in his rooms right now. He's been here all morning since his ship pulled in at dawn."

"Get out," Zuko repeated, his voice less of a growl now. Azula sent one last examining glance at Katara and shut the door. It was not even closed before the prince leaped out of bed and rushed to his drawers. He tossed Katara one of the outfits Iroh had given her and proceeded to get dressed in record time.

Katara put on the outfit, fumbling to get all her wrappings in place in her nervousness. She was worried about Prince Iroh. Though, some of her nerves could be attributed to the fact the princess had found her in bed with Zuko. There was another knock on the door, this one much more furious.

"What?!" Zuko called. He threw open the door to find Lu Ten standing in the opening. The young man winced at the shout; though, he had not backed away, his hand still raised from knocking.

"Where have you been?" he asked, then added. "Did you get the message I sent you? The doctor's worried he won't last much longer." Zuko waved Katara after them as Lu Ten lead them down the hallway at an almost run. She then noticed the sling around the older prince's right arm. If she remembered correctly, that was his good arm.

"What happened to your arm?" she asked. They turned a corner and moved into Iroh's wing of the palace.

"The Earth Kingdom armies ambushed us about two miles out before we even reached the main camp," Lu Ten explained. "No one was killed luckily, but some of us suffered bad injuries, some worse than others." Lu Ten pushed open a pair of double doors and a large room decorated in light woods with white accents came into view. Katara spotted Iroh on a grand bed similar to Zuko's and moved to hurry to his side, but Zuko caught her shoulder with the silent signal to wait. She acquiesced, biting her lip with worry.

She noticed two people in the room already. Katara recognized Zuko's mother setting a vase of fire lilies on the bedside table. The palace medic, Katara assumed, stood over Iroh, checking his pulse. The man wore no expression as he placed the eldest prince's hand back on the bed and bowed to both younger princes. Someone must have given the man a signal since he said nothing as he left the room, shutting the doors as he went.

"What did the doctor say?" asked Lu Ten. Ursa folded her hands in her sleeves and looked down at her brother-in-law on the bed.

"He says his pulse is slow and he's struggling to draw breath," she explained. As if to prove her statement right, Iroh coughed and his breathing sounded strained as he wheezed. Lu Ten moved to his father's side and held his hand. Iroh had yet to open his eyes.

"The doctor thinks the broken ribs may have punctured his lung. They don't think he'll pull through. It's incredible that he made it this far." There was silence for a moment, all eyes in the room fell on Iroh.

His head, above his eyes, was wrapped in fresh bandages. Katara noticed his left wrist had been set in a splint, meaning it had been broken. She was sure the injuries continued under the ivory blankets that had been pulled up to his armpits, leaving his arms free.

"Can you give us a moment Mom?" Zuko asked.

"Of course," Lady Ursa nodded. She walked to the door after putting on hand on her son's shoulder in comfort. Soon the room was just them. Zuko let Katara go and she hurried to the other side of the bed. Lu Ten had taken a seat on the stool, his forehead cupped in his good hand as he leaned on the bed beside his father. The scene reminded Katara of herself and GranGran, how she sat with her, begging all the spirits above to make her better and not leave her alone. They hadn't listened then, but maybe they would listen to Lu Ten, he was a prince after all. _Maybe spirits listened to royalty more then peasants_?

"How did you make it back so fast Lu Ten?" Zuko asked, approaching the bed.

"The engineers came up with their new war machines. They call them balloons. They fly using hot air from our firebending. They're so much faster than the tanks... even so," Lu Ten sighed. "If he's punctured a lung, not even the best doctors in the Fire Nation can help him." Katara saw Zuko jerk his head up and level a stare in her direction.

"Maybe not," he stated, "but Katara can."

"Zuko, no-" Katara panicked.

"I know she worked with the Arena Zuko, but," Lu Ten started to say.

"No," Zuko interrupted both of them." She healed me when I came back severally injured from the Arena. She can do it. I know she can."

"But Zuko," Katara plead. "This isn't a burn or even a wound I can see. How am I supposed to heal this?" she felt tears burn in her eyes. She was terrified of the prospect. It was not so much that these two would tell her secret, not entirely. There was also a fear, somewhere deep, that she would not be able to help, that her healing would fall short. She'd feel responsible then if Iroh died. She was not sure if she could handle that. Zuko moved to the vase of flowers and water that his mother had set down and presented it to Katara.

"No one will find out," Zuko coaxed her. "You can do it." He glanced at Lu Ten; the older prince had fallen silent. Katara watched him glance between her, his cousin, and the vase. After a moment, his eyes grew wide in realization. After all, he had been out with her the night of the guard's death in the alley that a waterbender had caused.

"Please help him," he said, putting some pieces of the puzzle together but still not fully comprehending everything in his grief-stricken state. Eyes still blurry with her panicked tears, Katara nodded and took the vase. These two believed in her, even if she did not fully believe in herself. She would pull her strength from them and try her best.

"I'll do what I can," she stated. Katara handed Zuko the fire lilies, thankful the flowers were so greedy about water. She stepped into her stance and drew the water from the vase and into the air.

"I don't believe it," Lu Ten breathed, watching the water hover as Katara pulled back the sheets with one hand. Iroh wore a loose white shirt that opened down the front, allowing the doctors and Katara easy access to any injuries. She concentrated on holding the water with one hand and searching for the tender spot with the other.

It was obvious that his left two bottom ribs were broken even from the surface. His whole chest was bruised, though small punctures and gashes already looked to be trying to heal.

"What happened?" Zuko asked again, looking down at his uncles' injuries. Katara lowered the water over his ribs and placed her hands on his skin.

"We were riding the last few miles to camp with the kimono rhino division discussing last minute strategies, and the Earth Kingdom army surprised us with a small group of benders. Dad got hit by a large boulder and flew off his rhino before any of us even knew where they were coming from. We took them down, but not before I took a hit the my arm and dislocated my shoulder as well as breaking the bone. Dad wasn't so lucky. The head wound made him lose consciousness off and on while on the journey home. Though, until we landed and he was moved here, he was breathing fine."

Katara only halfway listened to the story as she urged the water to seep under Iroh's skin and find the issues. It was difficult work, but eventually she found what she thought was the problem. Katara had never seen the inside of a human before, so she had no idea what everything she felt through the water was. What she did know, was that gaping holes and inflamed tissues were not normal in a healthy human. She felt her strength fade and allowed the water still on Iroh's skin to glow around her hands. Lu Ten's gaze and sharp intake of breath almost caused her to lose her focus.

"What's happening?" he asked.

"Somehow, she uses her waterbending to heal," Zuko answered. The two princes watched in silence as Katara closed her eyes and concentrated on closing the scar tissues on the lung. She coaxed the lung to build itself a patch to cover the hole the bone had pierced.

In the back of her mind, she could feel the two broken bones through the water's touch. Already his body had begun building them back up, though only the lowest one was truly broken. To her it felt as if the top rib only sustained stress fractures, easy enough for a body to heal with enough bed rest. The bottom rib was not completely severed, but it had moved out of position and poked inward. Iroh coughed, shifting his ribs under Katara's hand. She cringed when she realized the bone would simply puncture the lung again if left as it was. She looked up to the two young men.

"I need one of you to try and support his rib. It's too close to his injured lung to heal properly. If you could somehow lift it so I can set it back and start the healing, it would heal straight."

"I'll try," Lu Ten said. With his good arm, he carefully wedged his hand under his father's rib cage. Though the man had lost weight due to the injury, it was still difficult with his wide stomach. Lu Ten finally got the right pressure and Katara sent the remaining water to where she felt the fissure, speeding up the process just enough for the rib to support itself without fear it would cause more damage.

Katara thanked Lu Ten and put her head to Iroh's chest. She frowned and looked around for more water.

"Is there more water?" she asked. "I just need a little more." Zuko looked around and noticed the teapot on the dresser. He looked to Lu Ten who shrugged. The pot was brought to Katara. The tea leaves had not yet been added, so she pulled the small amount of water into the air and opened Iroh's mouth. She guided the glowing ball down his throat.

"I'm not sure this will work," she admitted more to herself then the others. The waterbender guided the water ball into the still inflamed lung. There she settled it over the injury she had attempted to patch and pressed her hand gently onto Iroh's skin. The water pulsed again the swollen tissue of the lung and knitted itself back together.

Iroh attempted to cough once more and Katara realized it was because of the other fluid filling his lungs. Lifting her hands off his skin, Katara closed her fingers without making a complete fist and appeared to push the fluid up and out of Iroh's mouth, clearing his lung. Before the waterbender could decide where to deposit the mucous-filled water, Iroh took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He blinked slowly, trying to focus on the girl who stood before him.

"Katara?" he asked, just as the door opened to the bedroom. Water still hovering, Katara froze under the gaze of the three witnesses at the door. Iroh's eyes drifted shut once more.

"Father," Zuko stood and faced the door, standing between Katara and the visitors. Katara lost her waning concentration as fear flooded her veins and dropped the water at her feet. Though it splashed her, she didn't let her eyes leave the doorway.

"Guards!" called Prince Ozai.

"She just saved my Father's life Uncle Ozai!" Lu Ten shouted as he rose to his feet.

"That's not what I saw," Ozai scowled. A group of guards swarmed past Ozai, his wife, and daughter in the doorway and flooded into the room.

"Take the waterbender to the Arena where she belongs!" Ozai ordered.

"Father stop! You don't know-" Zuko approached him as the guards took hold of Katara's arms and began to force her towards the door.

"I know a waterbender has been living in the palace for who knows how long, and she hasn't been caught!" Ozai roared. "And it appears, my own son has known about it and did nothing!"

"But she-" Katara stopped listening. She had no tears to shed for herself; Iroh was saved, Lu Ten would live, and she was truly a woman because of Zuko. She had no regrets as she listened to Zuko shout at his father. The princess watched with a delighted smile as Katara was forced passed them.

"She must have been really good in bed if you want to keep her this badly Zuzu," Azula sneered. For the first time, Katara felt her face go red at the thought of someone talking about her. She did not have a response since the guards dragged her down the hallway and forced her to march all the way to the Arena. It was decent journey, one Katara could recall doing in the other direction in the dark with Iroh not too long ago.

They did not stop when they came to the Arena. She was brought down a set of stairs and submerged into cool darkness. The door at the bottom was opened and Katara was met with curious looks from other prisoners as they watched her through their own cell bars. The guards walked her past hundreds of others, all dressed in the same tattered grey tunics with pants that she remembered seeing as a little girl. Finally, she was pushed into an empty cell against the inside of the Arena and locked in. She came to the bars and touched the cool metal, trying to settle her racing heart and letting her eyes adjust.

Whispers began to grow louder as the other prisoners watched her. She saw the age ranges in the cages around her and noticed that she was the only woman. Katara slid down the bars and knelt with her head against them. This had been the one thing she had feared ever since that day in the bathroom when she discovered she could bend. Being sent to the Arena meant certain death.

Slowly, Katara began to listen to the voices around her instead of her own morbid thoughts.

"-from a rich house-"

"She has to be a waterbender then-"

"-just found her ability?"

"-won't last two matches."

"Poor thing."

Katara gripped the bars tighter and held back tears. When no one was looking, she could cry, but not here, not now. She looked up as she took a steadying breath. Using the metal bars for support, Katara stood and examined her cell. Except for the fact that she had no cellmates, it was the same as all the ones around her.

"You must have been from a noble family, those are nice clothes for anyone to consider giving to any of us," said a voice in the cell across the walkway. Katara turned and saw an earth kingdom man leaning against the bars, watching her.

"You can say that," Katara nodded, swallowing her fears, blinking hard to clear her eyes of unshed tears.

"Did your bending come late then?" asked a man in the cell to her left.

"No," she shook her head. "I've been a bender since I was little."

"Water?" asked a third man. She nodded.

"Northern or Southern Water Tribe?" an eager man just older then her brother was asked.

"Southern," she answered. After a moment, as she saw the men pass looks between each other and turn towards the cell across from her own and one to the right. She asked. "Is anyone still left from my village? I know it's been ten years-" she paused, watching a man shake another awake in the cell across the way.

"Only two of your tribesmen are still down here," came the response from the cell across the way. He spoke to the man who had been woken.

"We have a new bender," the man explained. "She says she's from your village." The man awoken stood and looked over to Katara.

"So," asked the younger man in the cell beside her own. "What's your name?" The girl's eyes had not moved from the cell with the man who had been sleeping. Tears came and she let them fall when she heard his voice answer for her.

"Katara," he stated.

"Dad," she smiled. He had aged more then she thought possible in a span of ten years. It must have been the constant fighting to survive that put undue stress on him. She wished she could hug him and stay safe in his arms like she had done when she was little. He would stroke her hair and tell her everything would be aright and that he would protect her from whatever scared her at the time.

"You're a bender now?" he asked slowly. She wasn't sure if she heard confusion or something else in his voice.

"Yes," she nodded, fearful that he was disappointed. "I know that- " It must have shown on her face. Her father knew exactly what to say.

"I'm so proud of you Katara," he smiled. Katara saw the truth in his words reflected in his expression and smiled. She looked around.

"Were all the rest-?" Katara asked.

"No," Hakoda answered. "Sokka and handful of others had their contracts bought up and fight without the fear of death anymore. I hear your brother is doing very well for the nobleman he fights for." Katara smiled, knowing Sokka was still alive, even if he was still fighting.

"I saw Sokka a few years ago-" and so she shared the story of how she and Kanna worked for Ouran Zu and learned of her bending powers, and then how she ended up with Shiyu. She didn't mention that she had been at the palace; she was not sure how to share the story and skip the part about the youngest prince and herself in bed.

The thought of telling her father made her heart race and face flush. She tried to push the prince from her thoughts as she listened to her father recall his own life here at the arena. She missed him dearly and was glad he had pushed past the odds and made it this far.

The prince would not be banished from her mind so easily though; she dreamed of him behind the mask of the Blue Spirit that night.

...

The next day she was let out to the practice area with the benders in the two cells beside her own. She noticed how the guards seemed to gather and watch them, most specifically her. The young man who had spoken to her yesterday noticed her discomfort.

"Come practice with me," he stated, moving to the barrel of water that was only half filled. Each man took a fair share of the meager amount and moved through their own training. Katara watched her partner extend his hands and send the water in a slow, smooth arc toward her. She copied his stance and felt the transfer of push and pull as they moved the water through the air in a complete circle between them. It was calming, but Katara figured it was meant to be done with more water.

"Why don't they have more water out for us to use?" Katara asked him. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that the others all struggled to make do with what they were allotted. "There are a lot of us for so little."

"They think we'll try to escape if they give us anymore," he answered.

"Why do they want us to practice then?" she asked. He changed the path that the water followed to that of a figure eight. It involved controlling the water as it passed around and behind them. The exercise was more difficult, but Katara picked it up quick enough.

"The Arena Master, or the 'Head of Games' as he calls himself over the announcements, wants all the matches to be entertaining. If we don't know what we're doing and the fights end too soon then the people get bored. At least that's what we've concluded. I don't complain though, this beats sitting in those prison cells for six days waiting." The young man shrugged.

"When is the next-?"

"Tomorrow," he replied. Katara nodded. Her count of the days had been correct; she had wound up here just in time to fight for her life.

They went through more forms with new stances and Katara asked about his own training. It turned out the boy had been part of the Northern Water Tribe and sent out in an ambush to try and free one of their outlying villages from Fire Nation rule. They had eventually succeeded, but not before him and his three friends were all captured two years back. He turned out to be slightly older then she assumed, explaining that all four of them had been training under the city's master for several years until then, though their schooling was almost complete.

He shared as much as he could think of. The skills she had learned on her own impressed him and some of the others when they took breaks to catch their breath, but she was far from proficient. Katara was tired by the time they were returned to their cells. Once again, she was alone, though now that she knew the men around her, it was not so bad.

...

Later, once the sun had set and the cells were pitch black, Katara heard the main door open. She sat up from where she curled up in the corner to sleep, wondering what the guards had come down for. The firelight made its way down the walkway. She noticed the tension in the air build in the cells around her own. Someone moved in the cell across and down on from her own, standing at the bars. Light blinded her when the two guards stopped at her door. She scrambled to her feet, still protected by the soft flat shoes she wore in the palace.

"What do you want?" Katara asked nervously. Both men wore neither heavy armor nor their helmets, just the under tunic with the symbol of The Arena embroidered over their hearts.

"That's no way to talk to your welcoming party, dearest." The man with the flame in hand grinned. The light caught all the wrong edges on his features, throwing harsh shadows across his face. They unlocked and opened the cell door and approached her.

"Leave her alone," Katara heard her father call from his cell.

"_'Leave her alone'_ he says," the other guard mocked. "I don't think I will." He moved forward and grabbed at Katara, forcing one arm behind her back and leaning his head in the crook of her neck.

"Besides," he grinned. "I doubt she's used to being left alone at night." Katara reddened and instantly knew what the two men had come down to do. She struggled to be free as the second man closed in on her. The cells around them exploded in a cacophony of shouts and raised voices, her own amongst them.

She saw flashes of the two men in the alley and then the nobleman in the hallway. Only, where they had all failed, these guards now succeeded. She had no water to bend and no surprise rescuers in the form of a scarred prince, not here. She fought them tooth and nail, but eventually they got what they came for. They were both quick to finish and left with a promise to return and keep her company in the future.

Still collapsed against the wall, where they left her like broken doll, Katara wiggled back into her pants and closed her eyes. Tears fell down her face when she realized this would have been what she experienced as her first time if she had not begged Zuko to show her. This is what the other women of her tribe had most likely gone through when they were sold away to the their original masters. The scariest part of all was that if she had had not been rescued by Lu Ten from the kidnapping at the brothel, she would have known this life under Admiral Zhao already.

It finally made sense now, what everyone else seemed to know but refused to tell her; Sokka's insistence on her never getting caught bending and sent here, her grandmother's phrase about a life worse than death, and Iroh's fears she would learn this on her own. And under it all, she heard Zuko's voice, his promise that he would let one else touch her. While that promise lay broken, she would not fault him. There was no way he could know what happened in the bowels of the Arena. He was a prince of the powerful Fire Nation. Why should it matter to him what became of the girl prisoner he took to bed?

"Katara?" she heard her father asked cautiously. She realized how silent the cell block had become. She wiped her eyes and tried to take a calming breath.

"I'm OK Dad," she stated, not entirely truthful in her words as she looked to where she heard his voice emanate from.

"You don't have to be strong Katara," her father stated. "No one expects you to be. Not after that." She heard the anger in his voice. Katara stood and walked to the bars, noting the stray beam of moonlight she stood in.

"Those guards have no honor," the young bender added from the cell beside her own. She felt the pain of the men's rough intrusion through her muscles but stood before the others, looking to them in the dim light. Knowing she still bore the signs of her struggle, Katara stared directly at her father.

"It is for that reason," she explained. "That I _will_ be strong." Simply speaking the words aloud gave her the small confidence boost that she could survive this. She touched the hand carved pendant around her neck and turned to face the moonlight. She missed the glazed look her father's eyes held when he saw the necklace she still wore.

The men around her remained silent as she stood bathed in the moonbeams like an urethral spirit. She stepped out of the light after a moment and leaned against the wall to sleep. A cloud hid the moon's face, sending the cells into blackness, but Katara felt anything but alone in her single cell. If anything, she felt her mother's soft presence beside her, holding her tight.

* * *

OK, and so the story is heading up to the main event. Several more chapters are on the way, worry not.

And I am aware that just maybe Katara bounced back from this little Arena reality check slightly too easily, but, she has some lovely spirits watching over her.

The chapter title comes from the lyrics to the song "Dare you to Move" by the artist "Switchfoot"


End file.
